Book^ 



SERMONS; 



BY 

THE REV. J. GRANT, M. A. 

OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD 5 

FORMERLY MINISTER OF LATCHFORD, CHESHIRE % 
AND 

LATE CURATE OF THE PARISHES 
07 

ST. PANCRJS AND HORNSEY, 



MIDDLESEX. 




LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR j 

AND SOLD BY HATCHARD, PICCADILLY | 

ROBINSON, LEEDS J HADDOCK, WARRINGTONJ AND COCKER, 
ORMSKIRK. 

1812. 



TO THE RIGHT REVEREND 



WILLIAM HENRY MAJENDIE, 
LORD BISHOP OF BANGOR. 



My Lord, 

I am happy in being permitted to 
present this Volume of Discourses to that 
esteemed individual under whose eye my 
views of professional usefulness were first 
xmfolded and encouraged. May I hope 
that your Lordship will receive it as a slight 
memorial of gratitude for the many marks 
of attention manifested in the Diocese of 
Chester towards 

Your Lordship's 
Most respectful and dutiful servant, 

JOHNSON GRANT, 

London, June 1812. 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



A 

Aldehson, Rev. J. Aston, near Rotherham 
Alderson, Rev. J. Hornby, Catterick 
Arden, Mrs., Leases, near Northallerton 

Alexander, , Esq. Kentish Town 

Aspinwall, Mrs. Ormskirk 

B 

The Lore! Bishop of Bangor, 2 Copies 

The Lord Bishop of St. David's, 5 Copies 

The Lord Bishop of Killala, 10 Copies 

The Lord Bishop of Durham 

The Lord Bishop of Chichester 

The Right Hon. the Earl of Balcarres 

The Right Hon. the Countess of Balcarres 

Block, , Esq. Kentish Town, 4 Copies 

Block, S. Esq. Ditto 

Block, W. Esq. Ditto 

Borrowes, Robert, Esq. 2 Copies 

JBoyer, R. Esq. Ormskirk 

Bourne, Rev. Richard, Fingal, Bedale 

Burnet, Mrs. T. Belmont Street, Aberdeen 

Buckner, Miss, Chichester 

Blackburn, Miss, Leeds 

Bootle, E. W. Esq. Latham Hall, Lancashire, % Copies 
Brown, Rev. Dr. Edinburgh 



vni 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



Brown, Mrs. Edinburgh 
Bainbrigge, Miss, Headingly, Leeds 
Boswell, Miss, London 
Boniface, Mrs. Kentish Town 

Bush, , Esq. Muswell Hill, Hornsey 

Burrows, Mrs. Ormskirk 

Bicknell, Charles, Esq. Spring Gardens 

Bramweil, Mrs. Ormskirk 

Bate, Mrs. Warrington 

Baldwin, Mrs. St. Helen, Lancashire 

Borrodale, Rev. T. Warrington 

Brown, Mrs. James, Aberdeen 

Black, Colonel, Aberdeen 

C 

Bight Hon. Lady Charlotte Campbell 

Clarke, John Calvert, Esq. Queen Square, 2 Copies 

Campbell, Mr. of Shawfkld 

Campbell, Miss, Ditto 

Campbell, Miss M. Dhto 

Campbell, William, Esq. Ditto 

Conyngham, William, Esq. Gower Street 

Churton, Joshua, Esq. St. Helen 

Clare, John, Esq. Sankey 

Cox, , Esq. Ardieigh Park, Essex 

Cocker, Mr. Richard, Ormskirk 

Chorner, , Esq. Kentish Town 

Conyngham, Mrs. Broughton Park 

Campbell, Mrs. Ardneaves, 41, George Street, Edinburgh 

Crighton, Colonel 

Crighton, Mrs. 

Chandler, ■ , Esq. 5, "York Place, .Kentish Towfl 



SUBSCRIBERS, 



: f 



D 

Dutton, Peter, Esq. Warrington, 2 Copies 

Dakin, Mrs. Warrington 

Doyne, Philip, Esq. 

Dawson, Major, Bridlington 

Dawson, Mrs. Ditto 

Dawson, — -— , Esq. York 

Doeg, , Esq. Bridlington 

Dods worth, Rev. Dr. Thornton Hall, Bedale, Yorkshire 

Douglass, G. Esq. Tilquilly 

Duncan, Dr. Rosemount 

Duncan, Mrs. Ditto 

Douglass, — — , Esq. lochmarlie 

E 

Evelyn, Lyndon, Esq. M. P. York Place, Baker Street 
Ewbank, Rev. Andrew, Londesborough, Yorkshire 
Elsby, Rev. Henry, Barnes tone, near Bedale 

F 

Francis, Mrs. Kentish Town, 2 Copies 
Formby, Rev. Richard, Liverpool 
Ford, Rev. G. North Meols 
Forbes, John, Esq. Ely Place, Holborn 

Fuller, -, Esq. Horasey 

Fraser, Miss, Inveralichie, Aberdeen 

G 

Guildford, Right Hon. Countess of 
Grant, Sir Archibald, Monymusk, 3 Copies 
Grant, Lady, Ditto 
Grant, Dowager Lady, Ditto 

A * 



SUBSCRIBERS, 



Grant, Sir William, Master of the Rolls 
Grant, Miss, Malvern Wells 
Grant, Mrs. Kilgraston 

Grant, Rev. James Francis, Wrabness, Essex 

Grant, Mrs. Ditto 

Grant, Lieut. Col. 70th Regiment 

Grant, Colonel, Moyhall 

Grant, Mrs. D. Fores 

Glaister, Rev. William, Kirkby Heatham, Bedale 

Gray, , Esq. Somerset House 

Gosnell, Mr. Little Queen Street, t Copies 

Green, M. T. Ormskirk 

Gateliffe, Mrs. Leeds 

Good, Miss, Leeds 

Gore, Mr. Henry, Ormskirk 

Glover, Miss, Liverpool 

Gwyllim, Richard, Esq. Rewsy 

Greenall, P. Esq. St. Helen, Qt Copies 

Greenall, W. Esq. St. Helen 

Greenall, Edward, Esq. Wilderspool, Warrington 

Greenall, Mrs. Ditto 

Greenall, Thomas, Esq. Ditto 

Greenall, Edward, Esq. Ditto, jun. 

Greenall, Peter, Ditto 

Greenall, John, Ditto 

Greenall, Richard, Ditto 

Greenall, Gilbert, Ditto 

Greenall, Miss, Ditto 

Greenall, Miss Mary, Ditto 

H 

Right Hon. the Countess of Hyndford, 4 Copies 
Higginson, Joseph, Esq. Oakfield, near Hornsey, 4 Copied 
Harrison, Thomas, Esq, Kentish Town, 4 Copies 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



Haddock, John, Esq. Warrington, 10 Copies 

Harrison, Rev. Joseph, Great Oakley, Essex 

Hesketh, Mrs. Ormskirk 

Hewson, Rev. Mr. Ormskirk 

Halsall, Mrs. Ditto 

Hunter, Mrs. Phoenix Street, Aberdeen 

Henby, Miss 

Hawarth, L. Esq. Bolton, Lancashire 
Hope Weir, J. H. Esq. Craigie Hall 
Hamilton, Colonel, Chesterfield Street 
Houghton, T. Esq. Ormskirk 
Higgins, — , Esq. Kentish Town 

J 

James, , Esq. St. Andrew's Court, Holborn 

Jackson, Miss, Kentish Town 

Jefferson, Rev. Jos. Rector of Weely, Essex 

Jones, Mrs. Highgate Grove 

K 

Keene, Miss, Charles Street, Berkeley Square 

Keyte, Rev. Mr. Runcorn, Cheshire 

Kenrick, James, M. D. Warrington 

Kenrick, Mrs. Ditto 

Kershaw, ■, Esq. Ormskirk 

Kirshaw, Miss, Leeds 

.Kay, Mrs. Warrington 

L 

His Grace the Duke of Leeds 
Her Grace the Duchess of Leeds 
Leslie, Sir John, Bart. 
Literary Society, Bedale, Yorkshire 
Lamont, Miss, Knockdor 

A 3 



xii 



SUBSCRIBERS 



Leech, Mrs. Mary, Ormskirk 
Layton, Miss, Kentish Town 
Lister, Rev. J. Gargrave, Yorkshire 
Linzee, Rev. Edward, Shrewsbury 
Lowes, Captain, Edinburgh 
Lowes, Miss, Ditto 
Leslie, Mrs. Edinburgh 
Lee, Miss, Warrington 
Litton, John, Esq. Ditto 
Lloyd, Rev. Edward, Fairfield 
Lyon, Thomas, Esq. Warrington 
Lumsden, Mrs. Belkelney 

M 

Sir John Macgregor Murray 
Master, Rev. Stensham, Chorley 
Master, Rev. Edward 
Monson, Rev. J. Bedale 
Morehead, Rev. Robert, Edinburgh 
Myers, Rev. Mr. Halsall 

M f Donald, Alexander, Esq. Broad Street Buildings 

Molyneux, Anthony, Esq. Newsham, Liverpool 

Molyneux, Mrs. Ormskirk 

Morgan, James, Esq. 

Mason, Mrs. Ormskirk 

M'Bean, Mrs. Bridlington 

Mason, Mr. Thomas, Ormskirk 

M'Kenzie, Mrs. A. Edinburgh 

M'Kenzie, Colin, Esq. Edinburgh 

N 

Sir John Newport, M. P. London 
Nisbett, — , Esq. Dirleton 
Nisbett, Mrs. Ditto 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



xiii 



Nicholson, Lucas, Esq. Leeds, 2 Copies 
•Nicholson, Nicholas, Esq. Ditto 
Nicholson, Miss, Ditto 
Nicholson, Mrs. Warrington 
Newman, Rev. Thomas, Little Bromley, Essex 
Noble, — — , Esq. Streatham, Surrey 

O 

Owen, , Esq. Kentish Town 

Oridge, James, Esq. Marybone Street, £ Copies 

P 

Pryce, Rev. Charles, St. Andrew's, Holborn 
Porteus, Mrs. Queen Street, May Fair 
Pickmore, John, Esq. Warrington, 2 Copies 
Page, Charles, Esq. Hornsey 
Park, James Allan, Esq. Lincoln's Inn Fields 
Potter, Mr. Henry, Titherley, Salisbury 

R 

Randall, William, Esq. Kentish Town, 2 Copies 

Randall, Mr. Samuel, Fleet Street 

Randall, Mr. Robert, Ditto 

Roberts, Rev. John Cramer 

Riddell, Rev. J. F. London 

Rudd, Rev. Dr. Fall Sutton, Yorkshire 

Rollo, Capt. Edinburgh 

Rowland, Mrs. Woodburn, Scotland 

Robson, James, Esq. Bedale 

Ross, Richard Lowthian Ross, Esq, 

S 

Society of St. David's, 30 Copies 
Suttie, Lady, Edinburgh 

A 3 



XIV 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



Street, Rev. George, Langholm 

Street, Charles, E^q. Lincoln's Inn 

Street, James, Esq. Woodford, Essex 

Smith, Rev George, Bridlington 

Spofforth, Rev. Ralph, Howden, Yorkshire 

Scott, Rev. Thomas, Little Oakley, Essex 

Sheepshanks, John, Esq. Leeds 

Sheepshanks, Thomas, Esq. Ditto 

Sheepshanks, Miss, Ditto 

Sheepshanks, Miss Susan, Ditto 

Stones, William, Esq. Kentish Town, 2 Copies 

Stones, Benson, Esq. Chandos Street 

St, John, Henry, Esq. Hornsey 

Sherlock, Mrs. Ormskirk 

Strafford, Esq. Hornsey 

Segar, Miss, Ormskirk 

Sherratt, , Esq. Warrington 

Stubbs, Mrs. Ditto 
Smith, John, Esq. Ditto 
Skene, Mrs. Banff 
Sharpies, Mr. Ormskirk 
Scott, MissM. Edinburgh 
Schoifield, Mrs. sen. Howden 
Spofforth, Robert, jun. Esq. Ditto 
Sandys, Mr. Kentish Town 
Skelton, J. 11. Esq. Chandos Street 

T 

Turing, Mrs. Nottingham Place 

V 

Vanbrugh, Rev. G. Great Aughton, near Ormskirk" 
Vaudry, Rev. G. M. A. Warrington 



SUBSCRIBERS. 



XV 



Vepont, Rev. John, Langton-upon-Swale, Northallerton 
Vandercom, J. T. Esq. Bush Lane, Cannon Street 

W 

Right Hon. Countess of Wemyss and March 
Waddilove, Rev. Dr. Dean of Rippon 

Whittingham, Esq. Kentish Town, 3 Copies 

Webber, Daniel, Esq. 

Waring, , Esq. Ormskirk 

Woodcock, Miss, Warrington 
Woodcock, Miss Susan, Ditto 
Wagstaff, W. Esq. Ditto 
Williams, Mrs. Ditto 
Walker, Ard, Esq. Leeds 
Wright, Harvey, Esq. Ormskirk 
Wood, Miss, Kentish Town 
Wilding, Rev.. J. F. Cheam School 

Y 

Young, William, Esq. Shadocksley, Aberdeen 



44 



> 



PREFACE. 



Three reasons have induced me to add the 
following Discourses to the vast number of 
Sermons already before the public: — a hope 
of their being serviceable beyond the sphere 
where they were first delivered; — the solicita- 
tion/of respectable friends ; — and the view of 
enabling myself to complete the publication of 
the History of the English Church. They will, 
I am inclined to be confident, prove useful to 
pious persons, in the hours of solitary devo- 
tion; and to masters of families, who may deem 
them worthy of being read to their households 
on Sunday evenings. 

As I cannot, however, divest myself entirely 
of concern^ with respect to their reception in 
the world, where they will necessarily under- 
go an examination as compositions, — I must 
request the general reader (should any sucl| 



Xviii PREFACE, 

peruse them) to recollect, that they were 
written for mixed congregations. — When this 
is held in view, I need not much dread the 
ordeal :— for if it be considered, that, in ac- 
commodation to such an auditory, the language 
of an address should be sufficiently polished to 
chain the attention of the more refined, yet 
sufficiently simple to be intelligible to the illi- 
terate ; — and that in matter it should be distin- 
guished by substance and solidity, without 
plunging into depths, or running, into laby- 
rinths, where the humblest understanding is 
incapable of following; — it will, I presume, be 
owned, that these Discourses, whatever may be 
their defects, could not be widely different 
from what they are, without ceasing to fye 
adapted to their proper purpose. 

I have felt myself pledged, by a particular 
circumstance, which cannot be publicly men- 
tioned with strict propriety, to send forth 
these Sermons, exactly as they were delivered, 
in the method of direct address .-—which I 
hope will apologize for the frequent intersper- 
sion of such short conciliatory phrases, as were 



PREFACE. xix 

necessary to abate the appearance of impera- 
tiveness, attached to that mode of instruction. 



All orthodox and useful preaching must, 
necessarily, consist, in great measure, of com- 
mon places : for sacred instruction, drawing 
its matter from the Bible and the human 
breast, will rather impart recollections, than 
discoveries : and the chief art and only novelty 
in the composition of a sermon, will be the 
application of improvements in arrangement 
and in style to materials with which most well- 
educated and reflective minds are already fami- 
liarly acquainted. — The meats are precisely the 
same, as they were wont to be : — various combi- 
nations of " milk" for some, and of " stronger 
food" for others : — we only profess to alter the 
distribution of the courses, and the proportion 
of the ingredients; — while we add here and 
there a little garnishing, and a reasonable ad- 
mixture of sweets or spiceries, to stimulate, 
without spoiling, the jaded appetite. 

Where all have vied in befriending me, it 
will be almost invidious to particularize : — yet 



XX PREFACE. 

I should reproach myself did I fail to express 
my warmest acknowledgments to the estimable 
Bishops of St. David's and Killala, for the very 
liberal assistance they have given to my vo- 
lume. Whether, in the present instance, they 
have advanced a new claim to their general cha- 
racter, as patrons of struggling merit, and en- 
couragers of whatever is good; — whether, in 
common with other friends, they have acted 
serviceably, towards the religious part of the 
community, I have not yet the means of ascer- 
taining ; for that man ventures on a hazardous 
experiment who presumes, that addresses, which 
have excited interest, and produced no in com 
siderable impression when delivered from the 
pulpit, — will pass in print, with similar effects, 
under the cold eye of patient and severe 
criticism. 

J. G, 

London, 
42, Edgeware Road, 
June 28th, 1812c 



ERRATUM. 
%a the note, p. 371, omit, " of Life*? 5 



CONTENTS. 



SERMON I.— Page l. 

MOTIVES TO DUTY. 

My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to 
finish his zvorh. John, iv. 34. 

SERMON II.— Page 21. 

ON EXPERIENCE. 

Yea 7 and why, even of yourselves, judge ye not what U\ 
right? Luke, xii. 57 . 

SERMON III.— Page 38. 

ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF 
MIND. 

Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear* 1 Pet. L 
part of ver. 17 • 

SERMON IV.— Page 57. 

CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM.— A FAST SERMON. 

Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy 
palaces: for my brethren and companions 3 sake, I will 
riow say, Peace be within thee. Because of the house 
of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee gooda 
Psalm cxxii. 7, 8, 9- 



xxii 



CONTENTS. 



SERMON V.— Page 87. 

ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 
Yet lacked thou one thing. Luke, xviii. part of ver. 22. 

SERMON VI. — Page 10G. 

THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 

So run 7 that ye may obtain. 1 Cor. ix. latter part of 
ver. 24. 

SERMON VII— Page 124. 

ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 
Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and 
know my thoughts. Psaim cxxxix. 23. 

SERMON VIII.— Page 142. 

THE FALL OF THE LEAF.— A SERMON FOR 
THE BEGINNING OF WINTER. 

We all do fade as a leaf. Isaiah, Ixiv. part of ver. 6. 

SERMON IX.— Page 1.50. 

ON GRADATIONS IN FUTURE HAPPINESS OR 
MISERY. 

And the dead were judged out of those things which were 
written in the books, according to their works. Rev. 
xx. part of ver. 12. 

SERMON X.— Page 174. 

ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 

I form the light and create darkness: I make peace and 
create evil : I, the Lord, do all these things. Isaiah^ 
xlv. 7. 



CONTENTS, 



XX1U 



SERMON XL— Page 199. 

ON THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE 
METROPOLIS. 

Day and night they go about upon the walls thereof: 
mischief also and sorrow are in the midst of it. Wick- 
edness is in the midst thereof; deceit and guile depart 
not from her streets. Psalm lv. 10, 11. 

SERMON XII.— Page 220. 

ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 

JLet thy servant, I pray thee, turn hack again, that I may 
die in mine own city, and he buried in the grave of my 
father and my mother. 2 Sam. xix. 37, part 1st. 

SERMON XXIL-Page 242. 

ON THE CONDUCT PROPER UNDER FANCIED 
OR REAL WRONGS. 

Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give 
place unto wrath. Rom. xii. part of ver. ]y. 

SERMON XIV.— Page 260. 

ON HONOURING AND VISITING THE GRAVES 
OF OUR FRIENDS. 

IV hy seek ye the living among the dead? Luke, xxiv. 
latter part of ver. b* 

SERMON XV.— Page 279. 

ON READING. 

Many of them also which used curious arts brought their 
books together, and burned them before all men ; and 
they counted the price of them, and found them fifty 
thousand pieces of silver. Acts. xix. 19. 



kXtV CONTENTS. 



SERMON XVI.— Page 308. 

ON DESPAIR. 

lie healcth the broken in hearty and bindeth up theit 
wounds* Psalm cxlvii. 3. 

SERMON XVII.— Page 330. 

FOR AN INFIRMARY. 

And this commandment toe have from Him, that he who 
hveth God, love his brother also. 1 John, iv. 21. 

SERMON XVIIL— Page 351. 

ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 

Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that 
do his commandments. Psalm ciii. 20. 

SERMON XIX.— Page 3?l, 

THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 
FOR A. NEW YEAR. 

One generation passeth azoay, and another generation 
comcth. Eccles. i. part of ver. 4. 

SERMON XX. Page 3go. 

THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 
A FAREWELL SERMON. 

Bat it is good to be zealously affected, always, in a good 
thing; and not only when I am present with yoxu 
€ul iv, 18, 



SERMON S. 



SERMON L 

MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



JOHN } CHAP. IV. VERSE 34. 

My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me^ 
and to finish his work. 

Scripture represents the whole animate ancf 
inanimate creation, as made to accomplish the- 
designs, and to promote the glory, of God. 
Accordingly, we behold all things around as 
obeying his will, and fulfilling the ends of their 
being. The sun and moon, and all the heavenly* 
orbs, praise their Almighty Maker, by observ- 
ing their appointed courses. The fire, the 
snow, the stormy wind, fulfil his sovereign- 
word. Beasts and cattle, fish and feathered 
fowl, mountains and fruitful trees, all respec- 
tively and invariably accomplish the wise inten- 
tions of the Creator* 

But when we turn our eyes to Man, what an 
exception do we discover to this general con- 

- f i * Psalm cxlviuV 

S 



t SERMON I. 

formity unto the will of the universal Parent! 
How often do we observe this being, wlio boasts 
of his reason, at once assuming the sceptre 
over the lower creation, and degrading himself 
beneath it! How often do we behold him, by 
criminal negligence, how often by more cri- 
minal activity, thwarting the views of Heaven, 
deranging the laws of the universe, and be- 
coming a fatal source of confusion among the 
harmonious works of God ! 

This want of conformity to the general obe- 
dience paid by created beings to the Almighty 
Governor, may be traced to that principle 
which exalts us above the rest of nature, our 
superiority in freedom of will. Man is, and 
was designed by the Almighty to be, a moral 
agent. The obedience required from him was 
appointed to proceed, not from blind instinct, 
or mechanical impulse, but from motives ad- 
dressed to his reason and conscience ; — motives, 
which, as a free agent, he may, nevertheless, 
resist. While required to love and to seek that 
which is good, he is possessed of all the power 
of following what is evil; that the nature of his 
conduct may be determined by a choice, an op* 
tion, -a voluntary preference. 

He is, in a word, placed in a state of proba- 
tion : and it is difficult to form any conception of 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



J 



such a state, without some liberty of yielding 
obedience to proposed laws, or of acting in 
violation of them. — Hence the same tongue 
that should bless, may curse : — the same hand 
may wield the instrument of aggressive destruc- 
tion, that ought to hold forth relief to a fellow- 
creature : — the feet may be swift in run- 
ning to shed blood, which are formed to go on 
errands of mercy : — and the intellect, bestowed 
for the sacred purpose of ministering to truth, 
to utility, and to improvement, may be ren- 
dered subservient to artful devices; to the wiles 
of sophistry, and the plottings of depravity. 

In that trial, to which the obedience of our 
great ancestor Adam was subjected, we behold 
a correct representation of our own proba- 
tionary condition. A certain commandment 
was given to him in Paradise : life was promised 
to his observance of that commandment, and 
death denounced against transgression. Thus 
the love of life and the fear of death on the 
one hand, and the allurements of the forbidden 
fruit on the other, were the opposite considera- 
tions which acted on his intellect, and pleaded 
before his choice. — Transgression of every kind 
is our forbidden fruit. A variety of arguments 
for refraining from it are laid before us : and 
between these arguments, and the temptations 
from which they dissuade us, our free choice ? 

£ 2 



4l SERMON I. 

incited and aided, no doubt, but not forced, by- 
divine grace, has to decide. 

Circumstanced then as we are, having to work 
out our own salvation, by rightly using our rea- 
son, and by availing ourselves of the help; so gra- 
ciously tendered, it highly behoves us to review 
these arguments in favour of obedience to the 
divine laws, to gather them together, to method- 
ize them, and to treasure them up in our remem- 
brance ; that their collected and united influ- 
ence may serve, under celestial grace, to coun^ 
teract our tendency to evil, to defeat the assaults 
of Satan, to recommend the wisdom of holi- 
ness, and to guide us in the way everlasting. — 
By such a retrospect we shall, much to our ad- 
vantage, epitomize the elements of an upright 
life r draw into a narrow compass the substance 
of many discourses, and lay a deep foundation 
of Christian principle, on which the extensive 
and ornamental superstructure of Christian coa- 
duct may easily be raised. 

The arguments for obedience seem capable of 
being conveniently arranged under four general 
heads motives of duty, motives of love, mo- 
tives of honour and shame r and motives of 
self-interest. 



MOTIVES TO DUTY* 



S 



1. We are deterred from a sinful, and al- 
lured to a righteous course of conduct, by mo- 
tives of duty to God. He hath made us, in 
his wisdom, to answer certain purposes of uti- 
lity and beneficence; and nearly all divines 
and moralists have agreed, that, even had %ve 
nothing to dread from his justice, or to expect 
from his favour, it would be fitting for us, as 
beings created with design, to perform the part 
allotted to us in the universe. Wheels of a 
great machine, we ought to move in exact obe- 
dience to the wise intention of the artist, that 
the whole work may proceed without disturb- 
ance. The subject is supposed to owe a certain 
allegiance to his sovereign ; the child, an affec- 
tion to his parent, exclusively as a point of 
duty, and wholly apart from every considera- 
tion of his deriving benefit in return. Much 
more then ought this loyalty and filial piety to 
be manifested by us, servants and sons, towards 
God — the King of Kings, and the great Father 
of the human race. 

S. But, as the submission of the heart is far 
more delightful than the service of blind sub- 
jection, we are, secondly, invited into the path 
of obedience, by a highty interesting class of 
inducements, under the head of Motives of 
Lpve.— Revelation, by describing the perfec- 
tions of the divine nature, holds it up as the 

• 3 



6 



SERMON I. 



most worthy, the most proper object of love. For 
if the possession of good qualities excites 
our esteem for many among our imperfect fel- 
low-creatures, surely a display of the best qua- 
lities, and of these in their greatest amplitude 
and excellence, should have power to raise our 
warmest affections towards God. Now we 
know, and ought to remember, that an imita- 
tion of these perfections is the proof which he 
requires of our sincerity in admiring and 
adoring them. If ye love me, keep my com- 
mandments *. — Be ye perfect, even as your Father 
is perfect 

With increased force must this motive to holi- 
ness operate, when we contemplate the exertion 
of the divine perfections in our behalf. How 
numerous the general bounties of Providence, 
which, because they are unceasingly enjoyed 
(let us blush to recollect), we receive without 
reflecting duly on their origin — the light of the 
sun, the beauty of nature, the fruitf illness of 
seasons — our civil liberty, our reformed religion; 
peace and security in our possessions and dwell- 
ings, protection and preservation from day to 
day, — but above all, those inestimable gifts of 
divine love, the means of grace it hath multiplied 
around us, and the hopes it hath graciously 
opened in redemption, of immortal felicity and 

* John, x;v. 15. f Matt - v. 48. 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



7 



glory ! Need I here advert to innumerable other 
blessings, mingled in the particular lot of many? 
Let me ask these too heedless favourites of 
Heaven, how large a variety of private mercies 
it has been theirs, more or less, to enjoy? 
Health, education, virtuous parents, the good- 
will of their brethren, prosperity in their un- 
dertakings, satisfaction in their families, con- 
venient accommodation, steady and upright 
friends, — has not a participation of all or the 
greater number of these advantages greatly 
sweetened unto them the cup of life? Now, 
by the solemn voice of revealed religion, we 
are instructed to consider all these enjoyments 
as issuing from our Almightv Father. To the 
same Being alone it is owing, that in many past 
seasons our lives have been spared, and our out- 
ward peace of condition preserved, when tres- 
passes have been committed by us, and not re- 
pented of. — How good, and how kind a Power 
is this ! How shall we sufficiently express our 
gratitude, for these displays of his unmerited 
love ? What shall we render unto the Lord for 
all his mercies*? — Can we wound the bounteous 
hand which blesses — which protects, and sup- 
ports, and saves? Can our hearts repay such 
benevolence with rebellion ; with any return 
but that cheerful service which proceeds from, 
a responsive affection ? 

* Psalm cxvi. 12. 

b4 



S SERMON I. 

Still more amiable will the Father of good 
appear, when we next reflect, that every com- 
mandment which he imposes is designed, and 
tends, to promote our own welfare. He enjoins 
not any unmeaning penance. He prescribes to 
us no restriction of any kind, except in cases 
wherein obedienee conduces, more than trans- 
gression would conduce, to our good. To God, 
indeed, the fountain of blessedness, no acqui- 
sition of happiness can, it is evident, be de- 
rived, from oz/r compliance with his will. He thus 
addresses the human race, — " Worship me, that 
ye may improve your better dispositions; that 
ye may cherish your inward seriousness, and 
call down a blessing on your heads. Fulfil my 
laws, and perform a work, which prudence 
would dictate, were there no supreme Governor 
tovdemand it.'V—Must w r e not love, and cheer- 
fully obey the Power who hath sent us forth 
upon. so free a service; who hath thus directed 
us to walk in paths, that are, all of them, paths 
of pleasantness and peace? 

• Well may we say, that to his goodness" there 
are no bounds ; since he hath yet further ap- 
proved hirirself as deserving the best obedience 
of love, in having so formed his laws, that a 
faithful compliance with them is not more con- 
ducive to our own advantage, than to the welfare 
of our fellows-creatures. If a system of laws were 
to be framed by man, far promoting the greatest 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



9 



possible good to his species, they would be only 
a transcript of the Christian precepts. Love is 
the end of the commandment*. In fulfilling 
our sacred obligations to God, we are per- N 
forming essential service to our brethren; 
and pursuing the conduct which has been pre- 
scribed by human laws for the- preservation of 
social order, or by usages, for the promotion 
of harmony in civilized life. We are conduct^ 
ing ourselves in the world as loyal subjects, 
useful citizens, peaceable neighbours, steady 
friends. We are contributing our mite towards 
the prosperity of the community, in our re- 
spective relations, as masters or servants, pa- 
rents or children, brethren or sisters, husbands 
or wives ; as visiting (a great part of true and 
undeflled religion) the fatherless and the widows 
hi their affliction ; as the benevolent bestowers, 
or the grateful receivers, of kindness. In the 
goodness, then, which, after having combined 
our duty with our happiness, has identified both 
with our utility, have we not a fresh incite- 
ment to love and to praise the Lord, and to 
serve him with the best arfections of our 
hearts ? 

S. The inducements to do the will of Him that 
sent us, and to finish his work, which next de- 
mand our notice, address themselves to our 

* 1 Tjm. I.- & v 



10 



SERMON I. 



sense of honour and shame. Highly honour- 
able is the office to which we are called, of act- 
ing as the servants of God ; of working in con- 
cert with the holy angels, who are ministers of 
his will for good; and of resembling the Ruler 
of the universe himself, in his displays of use- 
fulness and beneficence. 

Our sense of honour must likewise derive no 
trifling satisfaction from reflecting, that we are 
alive to the beauty of holiness ; that our moral 
perceptions are delicate; that we disdain an un- 
worthy action; and that, although very frail and 
far from perfection, yet in our principles, and 
in the general ten our of our conduct, we humbly 
possess our own approbation, and have not for- 
feited the esteem of our fellow-men. 

Sinfulness, on the other hand, comprises 
whatever we are accustomed to regard as base 
and shameful in self-degradation, in imbecility, 
and in ingratitude. It is a voluntary degrada- 
tion of the dignity of our nature. Most justly 
does Christianity describe the transgressor, as 
living in a state of thraldom. The ambitious, 
the covetous, the voluptuous, are severally en- 
chained, and enslaved to their ruling passions. 
Whosoever ' committeth sin, of any description, 
ihe same is the servant of his sin # . To him 
in vain does the Gospel of salvation propose 
* John, viii. 34. 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



high hopes, and an honourable adoption. In 
vain does it invite him to emancipate him- 
self from his unworthy bondage; to assert his 
second birth-right — the liberty of the sons of 
God. He loves to grovel in the land of his 
captivity, and feels no noble aspiration after 
freedom. The flesh-pots of Egypt have recon- 
ciled him to the ignominy of its fetters. 

Not less degrading does disobedience appear^ 
when it is considered as joining the party of 
the adversaries of Heaven, leaguing in con- 
spiracy with the devil and his angels, and 
labouring to establish their kingdom of dark- 
ness. 

A conduct so humbling is still further dis- 
honourable, as it indicates instability and weak- 
ness. Can want of fortitude, can feebleness, be 
more strikingly evinced, than in a deliberate 
violation of our baptismal vow? a rebellion 
against the dictates of conscience; an opposi- 
tion to the clearest conviction of reason; and 
(if we have ever sought, in devotional exercises, 
the divine favour or forgiveness) a forfeiture of 
all those solemn pledges of obedience, which 
we had brought to the lootstool of the Eternal? 

Undutiful behaviour, thus degrading and 
weak, finally consummates its shamefulness in 



12 SERMON I. 

its ingratitude. To live; in transgression is to 
set at nought all the good which the Father of 
Mercies hath wrought out for his people; to 
trample on the bounties of his providence ; to 
make light of ail his spiritual dispensations in 
our behalf ; to mock his holy Prophets ; to reject 
the message of his Apostles ; to spill the blood of 
his martyrs ; to frustrate all his care and good-* 
ness, in graciously sending abroad die Gospel 
into our lands, and addressing it to our under- 
standings — in a word, to crucify the Lord 
Jesus afresh, and to do despite unto the Spirit of 
Grace. Setting aside, for a moment, the ex- 
treme danger of this conduct, seems it not 
deserving of being shunned, on account of its 
unworthiness? What epithet has society in all 
•■as»es considered as more disgraceful than that 
of thankless ? How little, on the whole, must 
any individual appear in his own eyes, who 
finds himself capable of acting a part at once 
^o mean, so weak, and so insensible ? 

4. Self-interest, the great spring of human 
conduct, has not been overlooked by reason 
and revelation, in proposing to us motives 
far doing the will of Him that sent us> and for 
ilnishmg his work of duty, of love, and of ho- 
nour. It only remains then, that we should now 
superadd to the refined persuasives already fnen^ 
tioned, whatever forcible inducements are found 
g 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 13 

to address themselves to this most .powerful and 
all-ruling principle. Now, with respect to our 
present interest, it is proverbially remarked, 
that temperance is health ; that industry is com- 
petence ; that exertion is exhilaration ; that in- 
tegrity is the : wisest policy,, and that content- 
ment is true philosophy : — that to forgi ve, is to 
be at peace with man ; to be charitable, to pur- 
chase the luxury of gratitude ; that to regard 
the opinions of the respectable, is to conciliate 
esteem ; and that to yield obedience to the laws^ 
is to. dwell in safety. 

Nor must we omit, amongst the arguments 
which recommend a compliance with the will of 
our Almighty Father, as conducive to our present 
interests, to notice that internal tranquillity 
which flows from it. — How high and exquisite 
the pleasure derived from being conscious, that 
we have greatly subdued the evil of our dispo- 
sition, and obtained the mastery over ourselves : 
that we are accomplishing the ends of our 
being, acting serviceably towards our fellow- * 
creatures ; properly rilling up our place in so- 
ciety; and happily making progress in the life 
of wisdom, in the purification and exaltation of 
our nature ! How fearless, how placid, are the 
minds of any, by whom this honourable cha- 
racter may be appropriated ! How boldly may 
they .walk amongst men ! how quietly retire 



14 



SERMON I. 



to rest ! how satisfactory are their secret re- 
flections ! what sweet communication can they 
hold with their Maker ! 

Reverse now in your minds all these particu- 
lars, and you will find in the contrast an oppo- 
site class of motives, of equal strength, in dis- 
suading you from undutifulness. 

But though godliness be undoubtedly, in 
these respects, great gain, having abundantly 
the promise of the life that now is ; the mer- 
chandise of it will appear to us far more de- 
sirable, when it is estimated as a treasure laid 
up for the life to come. Its future rewards, we 
are informed, are such, as cannot be fully painted 
to human conception; as the boldest imagina- 
tion has never feigned. This, however, we 
know, and it is sufficient information, that they 
are sure as the resurrection of Christ, and per- 
manent as the throne of God. And a service 
of faith and holiness is indeed the more ne- 
cessary, since it is not only (as we are well 
aware) a condition, but further, a preparative 
(as we axe less apt to regard it) for our enjoy- 
ment of everlasting happiness. Whatever dis- 
positions, whatever desires and aversions, have 
possessed an ascendancy in our minds upon earth, 
will, it is highly probable, accompany us into 
another world. They only who have cultivated* 

4 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 15 

in the clays of their pilgrimage, a -preference of 
spiritual to earthly gratifications, are prepared 
for spiritual bliss. As none but the pure in heart 
shall see God, so none but the pure in heart are 
capable of experiencing felicity in his presence 

In contrast with these benefits derived from 
a faithful compliance with the will of Him who 
sent us on the earth, we are, lastly, invited to 
review the disadvantages accruing, and to be 
dreaded, from a neglect of it. It is with the 
Lord of all power and might, let us remember, 
that we are engaged. Every trespass is an act 
of wrestling with God : — vain, unequal struggle I 
the creature with Him that formed it. If we 
live and prosper during a course of undutiful- 
ness, it is not to his want of power to arrest 
our steps, but solely to his mercy, and forbear- 
ance, and long-suffering, that our preservation 
and comforts are to be attributed. To Him we 
owe, and of Him we hold, our life, our breath, 
our being. Have not the rebellious then cause 
to tremble beneath a Ruler, who can in one in* 
stant deprive them of any of the faculties which 
they pervert ; who can draw back any of the 
bounties which they abuse, and render them 
living and awful monuments of his might, and 
of their own impotence ? But what do I say ? 
Their times are in his hands # ; and where is 
the security, that his power may not, even 
: * Psalm xxxi. 15. 



SERMON & 



now, or at any moment, be rousing itself from 
its rest, to blot them out as defects in his crea-- 
tion — to sweep them away as obstructions to 
his designs ! Heedless and helpless insects that 
they are, sporting beneath the breath of an om- 
nipotent Creator, who has but to speak the 
word, and they are gone ! 

From this cursory view of the power of the 
Almighty, pass on now to a consideration of his 
purity. Mark, I pray you, in the records of Reve- 
lation, mark in the occurrences of life, to how 
great an extent sin is the object of his displeasure. 
In the expulsion of man from Paradise — in the 
general deluge— in the whole history of the 
children of Israel, the fact is again and again 
made manifest. Man, we know, was originally 
formed for happiness, and it was sin which in- 
troduced misfortune and death : each common 
instance, accordingly, of misfortune, or of 
death, which occurs, is calculated to recall our 
attention to its connexion with the great source 
of evil* Every hour of life may we perceive in 
ourselves, or in others, proofs of God's unal- 
terable dislike to disobedience, and of his de- 
termination to suffer it, in no instance, to escape 
unpunished. A curse is attached to sin. More 
or less* — nearly or remotely, transgression is pur- 
sued, even by temporal punishments, in health, 
mind, reputation, possessions : not indeed ade- 
quate to it as a full measure of retribution, but 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 



an evident earnest of that severer account to 
which the Deity has threatened and designs to 
call the guilty. These are beacons of the di- 
vine wrath ; and surely ought to prompt a flight 
and determined abstinence from that evil which 
provoked, and provokes it. 

On the whole, a God, all-powerful and all- 
pure, we know, is not to be trifled with for ever. 
Always to resist him is utterly impossible. He 
must and will overcome in the end. Always to 
provoke him is the extremity of daring. A 
period must be put to the trespasses of those 
who would be saved : and if they themselves 
determine not that period, it only remains, that 
the exhausted long-suffering of the Father of 
mercies give place to the terrors of his ven- 
geance. 

What are the contents of those vials of his 
anger, which he will in the end pour out on 
urirepented iniquity, we are not precisely or 
minutely informed. From the severity, how- 
ever, with which a criminal course of beha- 
viour is for the most part punished here upon 
earth, combined with the striking and awful 
images under which future torments are repre- 
sented to us in Scripture, we may infer, how 
greatly these punishments and torments are to 
be feared. The worm that never dietlx, the fire 

c 



18 



SERMON" I. 



that is not quenched, intimate at once to the 
guilty sonl the in tenseness and the duration of 
the pains of fnturity* 

Revelation, indeed, while affording* such in- 
timations, rinds a comment in the testimony of 
our own natural feelings; which, while they 
look forward to eternity, convincingly declare, 
that it is in the nature of things impossible for 
the undutiftti to be capable of enjoying the de- 
lights of heaven ; since all their relishes are 
contrary to such delights; since they are 
strangers to a desire, to a longing after the pure 
pleasures, that await the pure at the right hand 
of God. 

Conscience, in like manner, pronounces it to 
be just, that trespasses, not detected on earth, 
should be ultimately exposed ; that wherever 
the temporal retribution of guilt is slight, a 
commensurate suffering should be reserved for 
it ; — in a word, that a more striking difference 
than appears in the present scene, should be 
made betwixt the conditions of good and bad 
men. 

With this constellation of motives before us ; 
instigated by so great a variety of hopes and 
terrors; of arguments speaking to our under* 
standing, and persuasives addressed to our feel- 

% 



MOTIVES TO DUTY. 19 

ings ; moved by every sentiment, and principle, 
and affection, which can be conceived capable 
of acting on intelligent beings; of fixing our 
determination, and invigorating our energies ; 
by a sense of our subjection to God ; by a love 
of his goodness ; by our strongest perceptions of 
honour and shame; by the desire of our present 
and everlasting welfare — thus warned by me- 
naces, to flee from the wrath to come, and al- 
lured by invitations, to rush into the arms of 
divine love, can any one hesitate to adopt the 
language of King David, Lord, I am thy ser- 
vant — truly I am thy servant*: or to say, In 
the volume of thy book it is written of me, that I 
ought to do thy xvill : I am content, I am eager to 
do it : yea, thy law is in my heart f. 

Let such of us as feel disposed to agree m 
this wise conclusion, remember, that all these 
collected inducements, which incline us to the 
service of the Almighty, are of equal force in 
urging reasonable creatures to yield unto him 
an obedience of earnestness. Little have they 
effected, and feebly are they felt, if their influ- 
ence be not acknowledged in our lives, as well 
as by our lips ; if they prompt us not to give 
up ourselves to the service of our Creator ; to 
regard him as the great master and proprietor of 

* Psalm cxvi. 16. f Psalm xl. f 9 8. 

C 2 



SERMON I. 



our time, our talents, our wealth, and whatever 
we possess ; to apply these trusts, for trusts they 
are, wholly and exclusively, to the promotion 
of his glory : — in a word, to render unto him a 
similar obedience to that which confers on the 
servant of an earthly master the characters of 
faithfulness, diligence, and attachment. " To 
him, therefore, with the Son and the Holy 
Ghost, let us give, as we are most bounden, 
continual duty : — submitting ourselves entirely 
to his holy will and pleasure, and studying to 
serve him in righteousness and true holiness all 
the days of our lives." 



21 



SERMON IL 

ON EXPERIENCE. 



LUKE, CHAP. XII. VERSE 57- 

Tea, and why, even of yourselves, judge ye not 
what is right? 

Wisdom is the daughter of experience. Even 
the sagacious conclusions of Solomon himself 
were derived from his acquaintance with the 
emptiness and the misery of folly. Thus, in 
general, he is a wise man, who, after directing 
his attention to past circumstances and results, 
establishes it as a rule, in conformity to which 
it will be proper to regulate his conduct, that 
similar results will follow similar circumstances 
in time to come. 

Our Saviour introduces the words which I 
have above recited, by reminding his hearers 
that this was the principle on which they were 
accustomed to form various reasonable conjec- 
tures respecting the daily occurrences of life. 
When ye see a cloud rise out of the west, 
straightway ye say, There comet h a shower: 
Mnd when ye see the south wind blow, ye say, 
There will be heat : and you thus confidently 

c 3 



SERMON 11. 



predict these changes of the weather, because 
you have, in a variety of former instances, ob- 
served them to have been uniformly preceded 
by the phenomena, from the appearance of 
which you once more augur their approach. 
The rule is plain "and simple. What has been 
aforetime, will be hereafter; and when you again 
observe its commencement, you may infallibly 
predict its close. Wherefore then will you re- 
fuse to direct your moral conduct, by a maxim 
so trite, the regulator of your worldly opinions 
and proceedings ? Ye discern by its aid the 
face of the sky and the earth : wherefore should 
you not apply it to the discernment of your 
best interests? Yea, and why even of yom> 
selves, of your own past experience, judge ye 
not what is right? 

Now, although, in relation to particular oc- 
currences, the separate experience of every one 
of us be different, there is yet a variety of ge- 
neral observations which all these diversities 
tend in common to establish, and which nearly 
all men must necessarily have deduced from 
-the events of their past lives. 

Here then, Christians, taking a retrospective 
view, let us call these observations successively 
under our examination ; and while we assent 5 
$3 we must, to the justness of each, let us unite 



ON EXPERIENCE. 23 

hi forming from it such conclusions and reso- 
lutions, as its acknowledged truth will render 
prudent and necessary. 

1. That from the intimate connexion which 
suhsists betwixt one part of life and another, 
the consequences of transgression extend to a 
distance, and are accumulated to a magnitude, 
almost inconceivable in the hour of offence, is 
one great truth established by general experi- 
ence. Most of you, my brethren, must have 
arrived at this conclusion, though, perhaps, by 
different ways. A single error, committed by 
one hearer, at some remote period, has worn 
out for itself a channel of misfortune, along 
which, down to the present day, his whole life 
has flowed. Another is bewailing the conse- 
quences of his having, long ago, neglected his 
opportunities of early instruction ; since he has 
found, that, by an improvement of them, he 
might have availed himself of advantages which 
he must now suffer to pass by him unenjoyed. A 
third having, perhaps, for a short period of 
levity, interrupted his regular habits of assiduous 
study, or application to business, although on his 
speedy and penitent return to duty, assuredly re- 
conciled, through Christ, to Heaven, is paying a 
tenfold forfeit of his fault, in reputation, to men, 
Jess prompt (he finds) than Heaven to forgive; gr 
jn fortune, to a svorld, less likely than Heaven to 

c4 



24 SERMON II. 

prove, when once neglected, a second time 
favourable. How many has one fatal surrender 
of principle to passion, at which they had de- 
termined to stop, led forward to another, and 
another, and another, until they at this hour 
find themselves enslaved to an habit, against 
which the voice of reason ineffectually remon- 
strates? Need I point out the lesson incul- 
cated by these recollections? Such as, being 
conscious of them, are yet in the prime of life, 
will doubtless of themselves judge what is 
right. Before you, my friends, extends the fair 
prospect, of yet continuing many years upon this 
earth. Beware of individual trespasses. Ab- 
stain from those short excursions in sinfulness, 
on which you are frequently inclined to ven- 
ture, by vainly persuading yourselves, that they 
are venial in guilt, and unimportant in their 
consequences. You know not, in truth, how 
tremendous may be their consequences ; or ra- 
ther, the past has already awfully warned you, 
that, fir from being deplored and forgotten in a 
day, they may embitter, with their baneful and 
un terminating influence, the very latest hour of 
your terrestrial existence. 

2. But in reviewing those past transactions of 
life, by which your present happiness or conduct 
has been materially .affected, you may ascend still 
higher than your marked deviations from rec* 



ON EXPERIENCE. 



25 



titude, to the circumstances, probably in them- 
selves less criminal, in which such deviations 
have originated. How much of your past mis- 
conduct, how much of your present unhappiness, 
is capable of being traced up to the intimacies 
you have formed, the amusements in which you 
have indulged, the situations into which you 
have incautiously permitted yourselves to be 
thrown ! All have been admonished (O ! that they 
were wise, and would consider the warning) 
how important it will be to their principles, to 
their practice, to their peace, to be, in time to 
come, scrupulous in their choice of friends ; 
guarded, sparing, and apprehensive in their plea- 
sures; and even sufficiently distrustful of their 
best resolutions, to be watchful how they expose 
themselves in societies or in scenes pregnant in 
any degree with spiritual danger. 

3. Jt is not, however, exclusively, either by- 
positive immoralities, or by an incautious inti- 
macy with the more obvious occasions of them, 
that the condition of men, at a distant period, 
is influenced. The slightest retrospective glan-oe 
will remind them, that many issues of the ut- 
most magnitude have, primarily, proceeded 
from trivial, and if any thing could be ascribed 
to accident, it might be said, to fortuitous, pe- 
•currenceSo Life is orne long chain of events, 
each of which tlepenrds, not only on that ft* 



26 SERMON II* 

which it is visibly and immediately linked, but 
on many others apparently too distant and too 
detached to affect it : and hence it often hap- 
pens, that the grandest results are remotely oc- 
casioned by a contemptible and hardly per- 
ceptible agency — as the broad and impetuous 
river is derived from some scanty spring that is 
scarcely observed, while it gushes from the cleft 
of a rock. Reflect for one moment on your 
present situation. Cast back your thoughts 
along the different connected circumstances of 
only a few years, and you will probably dis- 
cover, that a short excursion, a rencounter, a 
slight scheme formed in a careless moment, has 
led forwards to one strange effect after another, 
till it has at length produced the most wonder- 
ful reverses and the most momentous events in 
your life. Consider now, in the same manner, 
the present condition, in which, I trust, you 
perceive your immortal spirit. By what a seem- 
ing nothing has its better frame been formed! 
A book, which you have carelessly opened in an 
interval of leisure ; the course which a convivial 
conversation has chanced to take ; the interview 
of a single hour, perhaps of a few moments, 
with an individual of strong mind, or of deeply- 
marked character; an argument, a striking 
phrase which has reached your ears from the 
pulpit — some one of these singly immaterial 
circumstances has chanced to effect, I would 



ON EXPERIENCE. 



27 



say, as a Christian teacher, it has by divine in- 
fluence effected, an entire revolution in your 
sentiments and actions. It has begun with 
staggering you in your former opinions. It has 
sent you to solitude. It has thrown your mind 
back upon itself. New trains of reflection have 
then opened to your view. These you have 
sought to aid by farther inquiry. You have 
conversed on new subjects. You have addicted 
yourself to new studies. You have joined your- 
self to new society. — Perhaps you have prayed. 
And thus, from so very small a beginning, you 
have come forth — hail! admirable work of di- 
vine grace — a new creature, a different cha- 
racter ; — your principles new, your ideas new, 
your determinations new, your hopes and your 
fears new, your conduct new. The little grain 
of mustard-seed has gradually expanded itself, 
until it has become the largest and most beau- 
tiful of all plants. Something like what I have 
here endeavoured to describe, has at least 
formed, I doubt not, part of the experience of 
many. Now, you, my prudent friend, who 
H&vaf experienced it, why even of your own 
self 1 judge you not that which is right? By 
<hese astonishing changes, arising from insig- 
nificant commencements, ought you not to be 
warned how very expedient it still is that you 
-should walk circumspectly in ordinary life? 
Pught you not to consider, that* in z state of 



28 



SERMON II. 



trial, you are ever in imminent danger of re- 
lapsing; and that a similar trifle to that which 
has been the first instrument in confirming you 
as a child of God, may conduct you hack, by 
a series of consequences, unto the power of the 
prince of darkness ? — May conduct you thither, 
do I say ? — ah ! has not the supposition been 
too faithfully realized? In attending, then, to any 
distant, minute circumstances, which have led 
to the establishment of your better resolutions, 
Jearn to advert toother remote, and probably, in 
themselves, not less insignificant', causes of your 
violation of them. And let whatever occupa- 
tion, research, resort, has formerly at all influ- 
enced your departure from rectitude, be regarded 
as grouud to be henceforward trodden, if trodden 
at all, with extreme caution, although in itself 
it may by men be deemed indifferent, and 
though it may not perhaps be specifically pro- 
hibited, either in the law or the Gospel. Ex- 
perience, thus improved, may rightly, though 
with reverence, be denominated " the provi- 
dence of mam" 

On the whole, however well-established may 
foe your principles and habits, you are still, and 
at all times, in a sufficient measure to excite 
vigilance— the child of circumstance and situa~ 
tion. Account then nothing to be really indif? 
fercnt - -Stand at all seasons * strictly on your 



ON EXPERIENCE. $9 

guard. Watch, for in such an hour, and in 
such a manner as you think not, the spirit of 
Heaven, or the spirit of seduction, cometh. Let 
what the world terms a trivial or accidental oc- 
currence, be, in your vocabulary, a link in the 
order of providence : a means and vehicle of 
grace, or a step in the path of ruin. So arrange, 
as much as lies in your power, the general cir- 
cumstances of your earthly condition, as to 
render them, on the whole, favourable to piety 
and virtue : and with respect to all more casual 
impressions, to such events as are not, in any 
degree, at your disposal, strive to settle in your 
heart a solidity and a seriousness — an habitual 
devotion, which, aided by divine grace, may 
obviate their possible evil tendency. 

4. On revolving in your mind the past oc- 
currences of your life, all linked together, as 
we have above shown them to be, you can 
hardly fail to recollect instances, and these I 
will presume by no means few, of evil resulting 
in good. That which you at one time had 
rashly deemed a calamity, has led on to unex- 
pected prosperous events ; — or, what is infinitely 
preferable to all earthly prosperity, has produced 
an essential improvement in your principles and 
•conduct. How many maxims of unlimited 
trust in Providence, of submission to present 
'evils^ of veneration for the wisdom and good- 



$6 SERMON IT. 

ness of the Deity, ought to be generated in 
your mind by this one recollection ! Under 
whatever distresses you may happen to labour, 
ought you not to look forward to a period when 
you will discover and own them all, to have 
been the means appointed by infinite Benefi- 
cence, for the promotion of your happiness, if 
not in this present world, assuredly, unless ob- 
structed by your own folly, in the next ? 

5. Reflection on experience will further re- 
mind most persons of the different ideas respect- 
ing the same circumstances, which they have 
entertained at different periods of their lives. 
Certain objects have, at one season, appeared 
requisite to your felicity. Towards the attain- 
ment of these, as you may well remember, the 
whole force and bent of your mind has been di- 
rected. They have been the points on which 
all your hopes have centred ; the pinnacles of 
enjoyment on which you proposed to rest, in 
an entire contentment and tranquillity. In a 
short time, your sentiments have undergone a 
change : these objects of your fond contem- 
plation and affection have ceased to appear de- 
sirable in your eyes : they have been stripped 
of all that magic lustre with which your ar^ 
dent imagination had invested them : you have 
turned with equal eagerness to different attain- 
ments ; and these too have had their day, and 



ON EXPERIENCE. 



SI 



proved dissatisfactory. Why even of yout 
mm selves judge ye not what is right ? Carl 
you hesitate to conclude, from these recollec- 
tions, that the future is most likely to prove, 
to your perception, precisely as the past has 
proved? that, possibly, although reason be in 
your breast now matured, the prize after which 
you may be at present toiling, will, ere long, 
share the fate of all the others ; that you will 
become weary of the toy, and relinquish the 
search ; that you may possess it, and find that 
it is vanity and vexation? 

Take warning from hence, my friend and 
hearer, not to act precipitately in any of your 
proceedings. Pause and reflect before you rush 
forward to an attainment, which may prove, 
after all, only an imaginary good. Walk round 
it, and contemplate it in every accessible point 
of view. Consider it in all its bearings and 
remote dependencies. Attend to its various 
unfavourable points, and place them fairly in 
opposition to its advantages. Wait to ask, if 
the passion which impels you forward be sanc- 
tioned by the calm decision of reason. Consult 
the advice of prudent and principled friends, 
older and wiser than yourself: patiently and 
candidly listen to their opinion, and without 
being slavishly controlled by their judgment, 



SERMOft It. 



weigh at least, deliberately, the objections 
which they state. 

6. But, lastly, under all these changes of opi- 
nion, under all circumstances whatever, and in 
every period of life, it must be deeply engraven 
on the recollection of every one, that a strict ad- 
herence to duty has invariably been found ad- 
vantageous. Piety and integrity have stood your 
friends in difficulties ; have carried you through 
embarrassments; have removed obstacles in 
your way ; have heightened to you the joy of suc- 
cess, and have consoled your sorrows in adver- 
sity. To a temporary dereliction of these firm 
supports, you can trace all your serious evils 
in life : to this, and not to any other cause it 
is, that you owe all your truly unpleasant recol- 
lections. Your trespasses, more, far more, than 
your calamities, are the ghosts which haunt 
your memory. Different worldly advantages 
have, at different seasons, been decked by your 
glowing fancy with the charms of the sovereign 
good ; and you have lived to pronounce your 
eager search after all of them to have been only 
the changeableness of human folly. But yoy, 
do not repent of one moment which you havg 
given to <lnty. Any fidelity in your dealings ; 
any conquest over passions; any restraint im~ 
posed on speech, on appetite* on conduct; 
any past season of solidity and applica- 



on Experience. 



it 



tioii; any acts of usefulness or of kindness, 
undertaken from pure motives ; — -do not these, 
I ask, scattered more or less rarely throughout 
every period of your existence, constitute the 
topics of your fondest retrospection? Look 
for the conclusion within your own heart. Tell 
me, my brother, what is now passing in it. 
Are you not, at this moment, saying within 
yourself, " Yes * I do indeed perceive, and must 
own, that holiness, Christian holiness, in its 
widest acceptation, including my duties to God 
and my neighbour, is the wisest choice, and the 
best course, upon the whole. All my expe- 
riences, all my recollections, conspire to tell 
me so. I wish that I had crowded more of it 
into the past : but the past is now no longer in 
my power. The present, however, is yet my 
own ; and I vow — may God preside over the 
determination ! — to employ myself in the culti- 
vation of this unquestionable good ; in the en* 
richment of my future harvest of reflection; and 
in obtaining for my spirit peace at the last." — 
Cherish, cherish the happy impression : fan the 
sacred flame which God hath kindled in your 
bosom. Sensible of your weakness, and aware 
of your temptations, welcome the entrance, se- 
cure the permanence, and provide for the im- 
provement of the precious emanation of Heaven, 
by prayer for an increase of that celestial suc- 
cour, which can alone carry the desires and re- 



34 



•8EKMGN II. 



solutions it has already suggested, unto good 
and lasting effect. 

To sum up all : — Experience being, as we 
have seen, the great preceptor of wisdom, the 
old are, in general, wiser than the young — in 
proportion to the greater number of consenta- 
neous facts which have passed beneath their 
notice. Yet even the young may reach a high 
degree of wisdom, if they will supply the scanti- 
ness and imperfection of personal knowledge, 
by reposing confidence in the experience of 
those who have lived longer, seen more, and 
thought deeper than themselves. We read, both 
in sacred and profane history, that aged per- 
sons, in the early periods of the world, held the 
first places in all public assemblies; that, at 
their approach, the young men rose and un- 
covered their heads; and that, in all public 
councils and conferences, their opinion was the; 
first demanded. This peculiar reverence was 
offered to old men, in consideration of thei? 
being then the only repositories of experience. 
In process of time, the wisdom of the old, being 
committed to waiting, descended to their distant 
posterity. Books are in this manner now mul- 
tiplied on all hands, by which the sages of 
other times, being dead, yet speak; and the 
world is continually advancing in knowledge-^— 
It would b§ advancing 'n wisd&m if itwoalik 



ON EXPERIENCE, 



35 



rightly apply its accessions of knowledge ; — as 
each succeeding generation, in addition to its 
own experience, possesses the accumulated and 
improved experience of all the ages which have 
preceded it. Add then, my brother, whatever 
you have heard and read, to the little you may 
have remarked or felt ; and wherever you find 
these various separate testimonies concurring in 
their accounts of the past wait, I beseech you, 
for no further demonstrations to be derived 
from your personal history; account the evi- 
dence to be already complete and infallible ; and 
hasten to resolve and to act, in conformity with 
this salutary conviction. You will thus anticipate 
the sagacity of advanced years. You will surpass 
in that quality even him who is called the wisest 
man, but whose matured understanding was the 
product of personal transgression. You will 
happily avoid those misfortunes, and those re- 
morses, which, if you should wait to be taught 
wisdom solely from your own experience, you 
would too assuredly have to pay as the price of 
it ; and, while thus acting in a great measure 
from your reliance on the testimony of others, 
you may, without presumption, regard and ap- 
propriate the words of your Saviour as suitable 
to your own case, Blessed are they that have not 
seen, and yet have believed # . 

* Joha, xx. 
9 £ 



SERMON II. 



Alas ! too many, too many even of those who 
have proceeded to the extreme and perilous 
verge of life, after having again and again ex- 
perienced the irrefragable truth of every ob- 
servation which has been offered, have hitherto 
but very faintly and imperfectly endeavoured 
to convert their knowledge into wisdom. — 
Either their convictions, sudden and evanescent, 
have failed to produce corresponding resolu- 
tions; or their resolutions, if formed, have 
proved too feeble to issue forth in a steady and 
persevering amendment. Are they not still 
wandering, trifling, transgressing, in those same 
beaten courses, which, they have repeatedly 
found, conduct only to shame and sorrow? 
Are they not at best walking round the city of 
God, and exclaiming, " How beautiful are her 
gates !" while, although in transitory visits 
they have felt and acknowledged that peace 
and happiness dwell only within, their abode 
is to this hour in the surrounding world, where, 
with all their earliest fondness and avidity, they 
are toiling and panting after its vanities ? These, 
then, however advanced in years, are still but 
very babes and sucklings in understanding. 
Tor, by infancy, in the sense of reason and re- 
ligion, we are not to understand the age of 
bodily helplessness, but the season of mental 
inconsideration. We are children at any age, 
infants even in decrepitude, if, when we have 
4 



ON EXPERIENCE. 



37 



become men in years, we have not yet relin- 
quished childish things ; if we have not learned 
to reflect, to reason, to look forward; to trust 
in Providence; to submit ourselves to the di- 
vine will ; to prepare for the numberless vicissi- 
tudes of life ; to attach ourselves to virtue, as 
the sovereign good ; to flee from vice, as bear- 
ing only an alluring gloss, a treacherous ap- 
pearance of delight;— -in a word, as disciples 
of Jesus, to profit by our past failures, and to 
improve our present moments, by discovering 
our imperfection, by acknowledging our frailty, 
by believing in the name of Christ our Saviour, 
and by imploring for succour at the throne of 
grace. These (although on some of them our 
present limits forbid our casting more than this 
passing glance) are all acts of duty, of which 
a review of what has already happened in the 
lot and life of each of us, is well adapted to 
inculcate the importance and necessity. God 
grant that we may in this manner improve our 
experience, growing in wisdom as we advance 
in life ; that every revolving season, that every 
returning sabbath, may make us better as it 
finds us older; and fitter for our latter end as it 
brings us nearer to it, for the sake of Jesus 
Christ, our Lord and our Redeemer. Amen. e 



38 



SERMON m< 

ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF 
MIND. 



1 PETER, I. PART OF VERSE 17. 

Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear. 

Whoever is at all conversant with the sacred 
writings must have remarked, that they insist, 
in many places, and by different modes pf ex- 
pression, on the duty of fixing and cherishing 
in the heart, an habitual composure and serious- 
ness. Whether they admonish the children of 
men to stand in awe # — to set the Almighty Ruler 
always before them t — or to gird up the loins of 
their minds, and to be sober J— this hallowing of 
the soul, this inward solemnity, is, evidently, 
the point of obedience which they aim at in- 
culcating. Walking in the fear of God is 
another favourite phrase, employed by the holy 
penmen, to express the same meaning. We are 
commanded to work out our salvation zvith trem-- 
b§m & : and, in the words which I have chosen 
as the subject of this discourse, to pass the tw% 
of our sojourning here in fear. 

* Psalm iv. 4. f Psalm xvi. 8. 

t 1 Peter, i. 13. § Philip, ii. 12i 



ON* CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. $9 

That this is a most reasonable and necessary 
admonition ; that gravity should ever be the 
prevailing feature in the characters of the dis- 
ciples of Jesus Christ, none can deny who will 
maturely consider, — 1st, that they are beings 
having a variety of duties to fulfil 2dly, that 
they are the children of sorrow : — 3dly, that 
they are surrounded with temptations : — 4thly, 
that they are frail, and utterly insufficient to 
their own deliverance from evil: — ithly, that 
they are sinful : — 6thly, that they are short- 
lived : and lastly, that they are accountable to 
Heaven, in another world, for their conduct. 

] . During all the days of our sojourning in 
this lower world, we have, all of us, a large 
variety of serious concerns to attend to, and of 
important duties to fulfil. Although the Father 
of mercies has graciously permitted that our 
journey should be interspersed with seasons of 
rest and refreshment, we must at no moment 
forget that this present existence is a state of 
service and of trial ; and as such, presenting a 
work of no trifling labour to be executed, and 
difficulties not inconsiderable to be overcome. 
The purpose for which we were placed here on 
earth is, doubtless, not solely to take our ease, 
and to revel in enjoyment for many years, but, 
under the divine assistance, to recover ourselves 
from our fallen state, by a course of active ex- 

d 4 



40 



SERMON" III. 



ertron. Every individual has, or ought to 
have, a calling in life, or a sphere of useful- 
ness, in which it is his duty and his proper bu- 
siness to move. His family, and the larger 
family of the community, have a claim upon 
his diligence. Nor are our duties exclusively 
confined to that occupation which constitutes 
our particular province in life. We have cha- 
rities to administer; example to hold forth ; ad- 
vice to communicate ; a long train of urgent 
obligations to discharge, as relatives, neighbours, 
friends, citizens, subjects. Before, my fellow- 
Christians, we can be thoroughly sensible of 
these multifarious demands upon our activity, 
and properly concerned as to our faithful com- 
pliance with them, you cannot but acknow- 
ledge that any tendency to levity, either in the 
mind or the behaviour, must have subsided into 
composure and thoughtfulness. He who is 
without serious thought, it may be held as an 
axiom, is without solid purpose. 

<2. And this gravity, and soberness of dispo- 
sition and deportment, will appear the more 
expedient, when we next consider, that in ad- 
dition to our weight of duties, great as it is, a 
still heavier burden of cares and sorrows has 
been inherited from our first parents. The 
posterity of Adam, we are told, are doomed, 
not only to earn their bread with the sweat of 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OP MIND. 41 

their brow, but also to gather the fruits of life, 
in the midst of thorns and thistles. Man is born 
unto trouble, as the sparks fly upwards*. — Such 
was his melancholy destination from the fall; and 
in the sad experience of the whole human race 
has it been strictly and severely accomplished. 
What a succession of sorrows do we encounter 
in our pilgrimage ! We entertain hopes, only 
to be disappointed : we lay plans, to be de- 
feated : we form friendships, to be dissolved. 
Some who are present, among the young and 
inexperienced, may not hitherto, it is possible, 
have received their portion, in this common 
lot of suffering humanity. The candle of 
prosperity may have shone upon them from 
their birth, and they may have as yet had no 
cause for vexation and heaviness. They may 
be flattering their hearts that they shall go 
softly all their days, and never behold affliction; 
while the wheel may be, even at this moment, 
turning — ere long it will most assuredly turn 
— which will bring them down from their emi- 
nence into the dust. Though a man live many 
years, and rejoice in them all, yet let him remeM- 
her the days of darkness, for they shall be many f. 
Now, although we may not be required to in- 
- crease the miseries of this existence, by immo- 
derate anxiety concerning evils that threaten, 
or excessive gloom under such as have befallen 

* Job, v. f, t Eccles. xi. 8. 



SERMON III, 



us, it must, unquestionably, be prudent to ac- 
commodate our minds, in some degree, to our 
-unfortunate condition ; to take precaution, lest 
the evil day, on its arrival, should find us in all 
the unprepared madness of mirth; in the feeble- 
ness and enervation of a voluptuous and unre- 
flecting life ; ill adapted to bear up against the 
pressure of calamity : or, if troubles already 
bear us down, to forward their intended use, 
by hallowing our souls with sober thoughts and 
pious purposes ; by providing that our tribula- 
tion shall generate patience ; and patience ex- 
perience ; and experience of the sadness of the 
present life, a calm, but serious hope of a 
better *, 

3, From this brief examination of our duties 
and sorrows, as inimical to an habitual riot of 
the spirits, we proceed to derive a new argument 
for sober-mindedness, from a view of the 
temptations with which we are surrounded. 
Our souls are beset, on all sides, with dangers. 
There is no one pleasure, however harmless, we 
enjoy, under which a snare is not concealed. 
In all the fruits of this wreck of Paradise, sin 
has mingled a secret poison ; and the serpent, 
the subtlest beast of the field, still lurks 
amongst the fairest and purest flowers that spring 
beneath our feet. We cannot fulfil our ordinary 

* Rom. v. 3. 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 4$ 

duties, exempt from trials of our temper. We 
cannot converse with a common acquaintance, 
safe from being betrayed into impropriety of 
speech. We are unable to live a single day in 
the world, without the hazard of contracting an 
immoderate attachment to it. A taint of vice 
may silently and slowly steal upon our best and 
sincerest services: and even here, in this temple 
of worship itself, in this ark and sanctuary of 
pious affections, Satan, in the form of an ostenta- 
tious motive, or an unholy thought, may intrude 
amongst the sons of God # . Those enemies, 
in short, against whom we have promised, in 
the vow of our baptism, to contend, are every 
where in arms against us : and though, by the 
grace of God, the regenerate and well-prin- 
cipled may, through habits of resistance, have 
established their souls in a superiority to com- 
mon trials, no one human being is at any time 
perfectly secure. Environed then by all these 
formidable evils, having to guard against tempt- 
ation on the right hand and on the left, can 
we deem it proper to revel in the bowers of 
pleasure, or to raise the roar of intemperate 
mirth, as if all were at peace and in safety 
around us? The soldier on his watch, who 
dreads being surprised by the foe, passes not 
the night of apprehension in jollity or indif- 
ference,-^So, my Christian hearers, in our re- 
st Sob, i. & 



44 



SERMON III. 



ligious warfare, scdateness, let us be assured, 
is the brother of circumspection; and with 
much propriety has Scripture conjoined the pre- 
cepts — Be sober; be vigilant*. Does not recol- 
lection, indeed, whisper, that whenever, in time 
past, we have been drawn aside from the right 
path, it was in the season of giddiness, and 
during the banishment of thought ? And why 
should we once more deliver ourselves over to 
that height of exhilaration in which we are 
aware, that evil imperceptibly possesses the 
breast, while principle is forgotten, and the 
Toice of conscience is unheard ? 

A serious frame of mind is necessary in this 
our warfare, as the protector of Christian purity. 
It does not, like levity, harmonize with tempta- 
tion. It converts the bosom into holy ground, 
from the precincts of which the evil one, 
smitten with awe, will retreat. It is an inward 
monitor, continually reminding us that Christ 
hath no fellowship with Belial. It preserves 
ns from the contagion of the vices of this world, 
by creating in the soul a discordance even with 
its vanities. It is a temper ever on the watch 
to check the exuberance of fancy, the levity of 
mirth, and the riot of hilarity : to say to in- 
dulgence, when insensibly gliding into folly, 
Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further. It 

* 1 Peter, v. 8. 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 4$ 



places the soul which it occupies on an high 
eminence,, above the perils incidental to any 
communication with the wicked, which in the 
course of worldly affairs may be occasionally 
requisite ; and exempts it from the intrusion of 
those impure visitants, which are so apt to 
insinuate themselves into frivolous minds, when 
they are softened, and lulled, and left unguarded, 
by what is too often, in their case, rashly and 
falsely termed harmless gaiety, or allowable 
enjoyment. 

4. But the wisdom of seriousness will be still 
more apparent, when we remember, fourthly, that, 
thus surrounded by temptations, we are our- 
selves most exceedingly frail, and inclined, by 
our inborn corruption, to yield to them. In 
our hearts naturally dwelleth no good thing*. 
When Satan addresses us, instead of fleeing 
away from him, or, like our Saviour, com- 
manding him to get him behind us, it is too true, 
my brethren, that we are prone, by disposition, 
to welcome his arrival, and to court his stay. 
We know, that, for the correction of this un- 
happy perverseness, we are altogether depend- 
ent upon the Father of Spirits. Have we fre- 
quently defied unlawful allurement ? Have we 
made considerable advancement in holiness ? 
It is by the influence of the all-strengthening 

* Rom. vii. IS, 



46 smuo® ttt 

Spirit oT Heaven, that We are what we are * 
And if we wish or intend to persevere in the 
way of life, it is to the same power alone that 
We must look for support. Sedateness then 
Will be admitted to be the proper mood, for the 
reception of this celestial visitant. We cannot 
expect that he will make his hallowed abode, in 
the midst of volatility and folly. And it is so 
awful a consideration that God should vouch- 
safe to dwell at all with man, that it well de- 
serves to be entertained with the profoundest 
reverence. Indeed, as this consideration is most 
suitably received, it can only be rightly che- 
rished and improved, by an habitual sobriety of 
mind. 

5. Man, however (for it is necessary yet 
further to humble him in his own opinion), is 
more than frail : he is positively guilty. He is 
not merely a creature disposed to fall : — in 
many, in countless instances he has fallen. 
Our tendency to evil has fully evolved itself. 
To original depravity we have added actual 
transgression. The seed of the tare, instead of 
being destroyed, has been suffered to multiply^ 
and to choke the good grain. The root of bit- 
terness has shot rankly upwards, and extended 
its branches on every side. The fountain ofr 
evil, not continuing sealed, has gushed forth 

* % Cor. xr. l€K 



PN CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MINB. 47 

into an ample -stream. The best and most 
guarded have, on many occasions, on many 
more occasions than memory can retrace, de- 
parted from the law of God ; and have found too 
much reason to join with David in exclaiming, 
Who can tell how oft he offendeth # / 

If holding in recollection, then, this view of 
our sinfulness, we connect it with a contem- 
plation of the divine attributes — if we represent 
to ourselves a God, every where present, in- 
finitely holy, strictly just, all-powerful — we shall 
properly perceive, and remember, that while thus 
guilty, we are marked by the inspection of his 
omnipresence, obnoxious to the indignation of his 
purity ; that we have incurred a severe retribu- 
tion from his justice, and cannot escape from 
his power. Admitting, for the moment, that 
a future world were an uncertainty, the dread 
of temporal punishment, and the bare possi- 
bility of eternal woe, which such considerations 
might be supposed to suggest, seem sufficient 
to inspire the mind with seriousness. Even 
when we contemplate the mercy of the Divinity, 
which spreads a soft light over his other attri- 
butes, the reflection, while it consoles * must 
only add to our concern ; as a sense of our 
fctter unworthiness will, one would imagine, 



* Psaic&xix. 12. (Prayer-book.) 



SERMON Iir. 



tend naturally to damp the hopes of our pardon, 

or to sadden the belief in our safety. 

Mental sobriety, then, is the proper conco- 
mitant of remorse ; — a disposition well adapted 
to beings like us, whose iniquities cannot be 
numbered. To say nothing of the indecency 
of a contrary habit, can we fail to perceive its 
imminent danger ? Is the convicted criminal 
likely to obtain mercy or pardon, by assuming 
at the bar an appearance of hilarity and 
unconcern? Whence can he expect that a 
mitigation of his punishment will proceed, but 
from the supposition of his entertaining — from 
the tenderness awakened in the judge by his 
demonstrating— -a deep and fixed contrition for 
his offence ? 

6*. To this argument in favour of internal 
seriousness, derived from a view of our con- 
dition as sinful, another, not perhaps less 
powerful, may be added, which proceeds from 
the recollection of our being shoki -lived. A 
span, a breath, the shadow of a passing cloud, 
the fading flower, the ephemeral insect, 
are the striking but just similitudes em- 
ployed, to represent the term of our duration 
upon earth. We are beings born to look about 
us, and to die. Is there nothing to expel vo- 
latility from the mind/ — is there nothing to 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 49 



inspire solemnity and melancholy in the consi- 
deration that life, with all its joys, is fleeting; 
that every transient hour steals some portion 
away from it ; that now, while I am speaking, 
and you, my friends, are listening, we are all 
carried nearer to its speedy termination. How 
near we may be to its close, Ave are unable to 
tell : for short as it is at the best, the events of 
each day prove it to be moreover extremely 
precarious. Is it fitting then that the victim 
should sport before that altar, where every pre- 
paration announces that it will shortly bleed ? 
Ought we to give loose to riot at that festive 
board, where a sword is suspended by a hair 
over our heads ? In the record preserved by the 
sacred writings, of the two great destructions 
by water and fire, it is related, that the people 
sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play> till 
the flood came and took them away — till it rained 
fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them 
all. And though floods of water and cataracts 
of fire do not overwhelm the present genera- 
tions of men, yet the silent devastations of 
time or accident continually carry off one un- 
thinking individual after another ; so that to us, 
who are come in these latter days, it may still be 
said, with the strictest propriety, Now these 
things have happened for examples * — that men 

* iCor. x. iu 
E 



SERMON III. 



(were wise, that they would consider this— that 
they would remember their latter end* ; and learn 
to be serious from a sense of the necessity of 
expediting the business of a short and preca- 
rious existence, and of preparing for the im- 
pending mandate of their dismissal. 

7. But reflections on the brevity and uncer- 
tainty of this life, derive their principal awful- 
ness and main importance, from the great events 
which are to follow its termination. We are 
short-lived : we vanish away : we are account- 
able to Heaven for our conduct. It is appointed 
unto all men once to die ; and after that the jadg* 
ment. The final, and grand, and conclusive ar- 
gument, then, recommending inward serious- 
ness, is the voice of the trumpet which 
shall summon us before the tribunal of Christ, 
sounded as it is by the angel of prophecy. For 
every deed done in the body ; for every sinful, 
every idle word spoken; for every present 
thought dishonourable to integrity, or tainting 
to purity, must a strict and faithful account be 
rendered unto the Searcher of hearts. In the; 
hearts of beings, then, like us, my brethren, 
for whom a trial so severe and so terrible is pre- 
pared, and who have enlarged to so vast a mag- 
nitude the roll of our offences, ought not se- 

* Deut ; xxxii. 29. 



4 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 51 

riousness and awe to be the prevailing disposi- 
tions? For US who are advancing with steps 
thus rapid to the judgment throne of justice v and 
purity — a throne before which we are so ill 
qualified to stand ; a place of retribution where 
the everlasting rewards of which we know we 
are so little worthy, and the punishments which 
we have so justly merited, are to be apportioned— 
gravity is surely the proper livery of the mind„ 
Serve the Lord, O man! who art shortly to 
appear before him, with a reverential and cau- 
tious dread of offending*. — Place the day of 
wrath habitually before thine eyes, that thou 
jnayest beware of heaping up to thyself wrath 
against its arrival f ||. 

After having thus exhibited, in a single view, 
the various, urgent, and awful motives to the 

* Psalm ii. 11. -J- Rom. ii. 5. 

|| " Ah, my friends," exclaims a religious writer, whose 
words we may borrow in summing up these reflections, 
" while we laugh, all things are serious around us : — God is 
serious, who exerciseth patience towards us $ Christ is se- 
rious, who shed his blood for us j the Holy Ghost is serious, 
who striveth against the obstinacy of our hearts ; the Holy 
Scriptures bring to our ears the most serious things in the 
world ; the Holy Sacraments represent the most serious and 
awful matters $ the whole creation is serious in serving God 
and us ; all that are in heaven or hell are serious how then 
?aa we be otherwise -Young. 

£ 2 



62 



SERMON III. 



cultivation of internal seriousness, I must beg 
leave, in conclusion, to state precisely, what is 
to be understood by such a disposition. For it 
is no austere devotion, no servile and supersti- 
tious dread of God as an enemy and an avenger 
— -no uninterrupted contemplation of earthly 
evils, or spiritual themes, no hourly dwelling 
of the mind amidst graves, or self-summoning 
to judgment, such as would at once obstruct 
the discharge of active services, and banish 
that secret satisfaction, that perennial serenity, 
and that contented participation of the blessings 
of Providence, which are the meed of a sincere 
love of God, and of an habitual endeavour to 
serve him ; — it is none of these exactions that 
are required. No ! reasonable occupation in 
the affairs of life, and a temperate but cautious 
use of its truly innocent and sober gratifica- 
tions, seem not inconsistent with the strictest 
Christianity. 

What then does our holy religion prohibit ? 
It forbids that our time should be lavished, or 
much employed ; our thoughts, our souls ab- 
sorbed, or deeply engaged, in the things of the 
present scene. It forbids us, not only to live 
altogether without God, but to live without 
holding daily intercourse with him in the world. 
It places a barrier, which the candidate for 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. S3 

Heaven must not pass, betwixt sober, vigilant, 
reserved gratification, and the levities, vanities, 
and fooleries which surround him. It totally 
interdicts a living unto pleasure of any kind ; 
a self-exposure to volatility ; a coldness in re- 
ligion; a heedlessness concerning either the 
more leading, or the inferior moral obligations 
of life. 

In short, ail the arguments on which ws 
have here expatiated, will be found at once 
motives to seriousness, and modes of it : consi- 
derations constituting, when habitually che- 
rished, the very frame of mind which, as sirm- 
ply noticed, they conspire to inculcate. 

The love and fear of God is the first and up- 
permost principle in the heart of the true 
believer. Complacency and gladness he Tegards 
as not wholly withheld from the faithful ser- 
vant of an infinitely good and kind Master ; 
but they are not permitted to disturb that timid 
awe, which becomes a servant, who has left 
much neglected, and done much which he 
knows he ought not to have done. Not losing 
sight of the great purpose of his being, he 
often and deeply revolves within himself in 
what manner he has hitherto laboured to accom- 
plish it j what time he possesses for supplying 

e-3 



SERMON III. 



imperfections; and how he is likely to fare 
when he shall go hence. He is anxious to make 
a friend of God as a refuge and helper in the 
apprehended evils and dangers of existence. He 
sedulously cultivates an habitual aptitude to avail 
himself of every passing occurrence, the state 
of public affairs, the transactions of each day, 
successes and calamities, every spectacle of 
woe, every scene of pleasure, and, above all, 
of every warning offered in public instruction, 
by converting them into themes of spiritual 
meditation, and occasions of moral improve- 
ment. Well knowing the power of his spi- 
ritual adversaries — the difficulty of the labour 
that Heaven hath set before him — the frailty of 
his nature* and the side on which he is chiefly 
vulnerable, he abstains from any intemperance 
even in innocent enjoyment, and stops far short 
of the point of danger. He is actuated by the 
dread of a relapse into, forsaken offences, as 
well as by an apprehension of his being sud- 
denly removed from the world, before he has 
done all that is needful for his salvation. And 
although these grave but wholesome fears are 
not, and need not be, continually present to re* 
flection, yet is their influence perpetually felt - 
as men are wont to pursue their path in the day, 
without thinking of the sun by whose beams 
they are enlightened. 



ON CULTIVATING A SERIOUS FRAME OF MIND. 55 

That we may still further increase and che- 
rish that habitual seriousness, which has on the 
present occasion been the subject of our medi- 
tations, let it be our resolution and our study 
to attend with regularity, and with an honest 
desire of spiritual improvement, the various 
public services of our church; while we deter- 
mine to be not less careful or systematic in ob- 
serving the duties of family devotion ; and 
while we frequently snatch from the employ- 
ments of the world an hour to be dedicated to 
private meditation and prayer. Daily let us 
delight ourselves in the law of God, and in the 
Gospel of his divine Son ; — at the same time 
nourishing our internal sobriety, and elevating 
all the devout affections, by psalms, and hymns, 
and spiritual songs, if not uttered with the 
voice of melody, at least ascending to the gate 
of Heaven, in the silent but acceptable music 
of the heart. Let us regulate our hours of 
converse and relaxation with a view to the pre- 
servation, and, if possible, the improvement of 
our sober-mindedness, and strictness of religious 
principles. And, lest deceitful levity, our 
smiling and insidious enemy, should still at- 
tempt to introduce, unperceived, a forgetful- 
ness of God and of duty into the breast, let us, 
finally, study to guard against his encroach- 
ments, by descending into the hut of poverty, 
by acquainting ourselves with the mansion of 

e 4 



56 



SERMON III, 



mourning ; by sitting down in the chamber of 
sickness ; by contemplating the bed of death ; 
or by pondering, at intervals, in the place of 
tombs ! So shall we pass the time of our so- 
journing in fear : we shall work into the heart, 
and into the conduct, that general solidity and 
sobriety, Which are at. once tlie necessary source, 
and the sure indication, of a well-regulated and 
well-disposed breast : we shall, in a word, stand 
like men who wait for their Lord; and who, 
when he cometh and knocketh, are in a proper 
frame of mind, to answer, " We are ready," and 
to open to him immediately. 



57 



SERMON IV. 

CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. — A FAST SERMON. 

PSALM CXXII. VERSES 7, 8, 9* 

Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within 
thy palaces : for my brethren and companions' 
sake, I ivill now say, Peace be within thee. Be- 
cause of the house of the Lord our God, I will 
seek to do thee good. 

Patriotism has, in every age and nation of the 
world, been regarded as a very exalted virtue. 
So highly indeed was it estimated by the hea- 
then states of antiquity, that they accounted it 
worthy of superseding, in many instances, the 
ties of domestic attachment. To instil this noble 
principle was the chief business of education. 
Citizens, to prove that they were true to it, 
thronged into every office of unrecompensed 
trouble, and courted posts of imminent danger. 
They even looked forward with complacency, 
or rather with ardour, to any opportunity of 
sacrificing their lives, for the sake of the land 
which had given them birth. 

Not less distinguished were the chosen 
people of God, for the same attachment towards 



5S 



SERMON IV. 



their native country. Dragged in captivity into 
a foreign land, they sat down by the waters of 
Babylon, and wept, when they remembered thee, 
O Zionl When, in cruel mirth, and savage 
exultation over their sorrows, their enemies de- 
manded of them a song, we read that they hung 
up their harps upon willows, and asked, with a 
Sullen but natural dejection, How can we sing 
the Lord's song in a strange country *?-\ Daniel, 
exalted to high authority in that foreign state, 
was unable to forget that he was still only pre- 
eminent in servitude, and that his preference 
was due to the land of his fathers ; for it is re- 
corded, that he was wont' to pray three times a 
day, with his windows open towards Jerusalem^. 
And when, agreeably to the prediction of pro- 
phecy, and at the end of the appointed course 
of years, it pleased God to turn back the cap- 
tivity of his people, and to restore them to their 
natal soil, then was their mouth jitled with laugh- 
ter, and their tongue with singing %. 

Whatever some mistaken individuals may 
aver, the religion of Jesus does, certainly, not 
inculcate the absorption of this virtue, in that 
wider duty of universal benevolence which it 
has taught. We know that the Author of that 
religion himself, first addressed his warnings to 
liis own countrymen : he came unto his own § ; 

* Psalm cxxxvii. f Daniel, vi. 10. 

X Psalm cxxvi. 2. § John, i. 11. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 59 

he was sent primarily to the lost sheep of the house 
of Israel *. A foresight of the calamities which 
were speedily about to befall the metropolis of 
his unhappy country, extorted from him the 
following pathetic apostrophe: O ! Jerusalem, 
which killest the prophets, and stonest them who 
are sent unto thee ; hoxv often would I have ga- 
thered thee as a hen doth gather her brood under 
her wings, and ye would not\l In like manner, 
on the eve of his crucifixion, it is written, that 
he saw the city, and wept over it ; and said, If 
thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy 

day, the things which belong unto thy peace: 

but now they are hid from thine eyes %. Nor can 
it with reason be pretended, that these instances 
of patriotism, exhibited by the chosen people, 
under the law, and by the sacred Personage who 
introduced among men a better hope and a purer 
morality, are undeserving of being received 
as amounting to a direct injunction. It is surely 
something more than a doubtful argument, in 
favour of any particular branch of duty, that 
Scripture represents it as a legitimate feeling, 
which we are no where commanded to suppress; 
and to which its highest patterns of piety, of 
wisdom, and of worth, have given an unli- 
mited indulgence. 



Matt. xv. 24. f Luke, xiii. 34. $ Luke, xix. 42. 



60 



SERMON IV. 



The duty of Patriotism then being recom- 
mended and enjoined by these illustrious exam- 
ples, it is proper to inquire (and the inquiry will 
not be unsuitable to a day of national humilia- 
tion and repentance, as well as to the present state 
of our country), what is the nature, and what 
the extent, of those services, which Christianity 
permits or demands, in our discharge of this 
important obligation. 

I. Obedience to the laws of our country, and 
submission to its constituted authorities, are prime 
ingredients in the virtue under consideration. 
Without law, confusion would prevail: wic- 
kedness would be unrestrained, crimes unpu- 
nished, property endangered, and life insecure. 
Civil magistrates, and the other powers that be 
in any state, are appointed for the punishment 
of evil doers, and the praise of them that do well*. 
Now, one useful service by which we may 
evince our love to the community in which we 
dwell, is, that of quietly moving in our re- 
spective stations ; complying with these laws, 
and contributing our share towards a general 
submission to these authorities : for laws are ac- 
knowledged to derive much weight from that 
countenance of public opinion, to which the 
subscription of each individual is of import- 
ance ; and it is by the peaceable submission of 
* 1 Pet. ii. 14. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM, 6\ 

the great body of the governed, that the au- 
thority of the magistrate over the refractory 
is the most effectually recognised and main* 
tained # . 

This quiet and voluntary subjection to the 
laws and magistracy, is opposed, not to that bold 
resistance, which extraordinary emergencies, or 
extreme oppression, have been by many re* 
garded as justifying ; but to that turbulent and 
murmuring spirit displayed by those who are 
studious, on every ordinary occasion, to oppose 
the course of law, and to clog the wheels of 
public administration : a spirit which the Scrip- 
tures seem to have in view, when they command 

* Opinione, piu efficace della forza medesima. 

Beccaria. 

On this head we might further observe, that it is more, 
conducive to the peace of a community, that crimes should 
not exist, than that they should prevail and be punished. A 
state is happier as the occasions of enforcing penal laws are les$ 
frequent. That man, then, discharges no inconsiderable office, 
of Patriotism, who takes care, by giving no offence, that the 
law shall not be driven to any painful exertion of its severity^, 
on his account. 

In the foregoing observations, the author anxiously depre^ 
cates being considered as entering on the general question of 
submission in every supposable case, whatever may happen to? 
be the established laws and authorities. Let it be remembered 
that he is addressing a free and happy people who enjoy the 
blessing of a magistracy subservient to law 5 and whose laws 
are their own voice (through the medium of their deputed 
Representatives), imposing restraints upon themselves. 



SERMON" IV. 



us to submit ourselves to every ordinance of man, 
for the Lord's sake*: when they enjoin every 
soul to be subject unto the higher pozvers : since 
the powers that be are ordained of God; and since 
whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth 
the ordinance of God: when they acid, Wherefore 
ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but 
also for conscience sake f : and forcibly describe 
the evil disposition which a spirit of insubordi- 
nation indicates, by identifying persons who 
despise government J, with those who walk after 
the flesh §. 

II. In some states, the duty of Patriotism 
lias been regarded as almost solely confined to 
military service. And, no doubt, in times like 
those in which we live, to enlist ourselves in 
the bands that are voluntarily embodied for in- 
ternal security and defence, to sacrifice a por- 
tion of our time and comforts to the necessary 
exercise which the discipline of those bands 
prescribes;- — to be willing and prompt, at any 
warning, to encounter with them the incle- 
mency of seasons and the hardships of service ; 
— to resolve, if our inveterate foe should ever 
set his foot upon our shores, on hazarding our 
lives in an attempt to repel him ; — are consti- 
tuent parts of Christian Patriotism, too import- 
suit and indispensable to be omitted, I repeat 

* 1 Pet. ii. f Rom. xiii. 

4 2 Pet. & $ Jude, viih 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. §3 

the words, Christian Patriotism : for as the 
Gospel of general philanthropy does by no 
means aim at extinguishing the love of our 
country, neither does the Gospel of Peace pro- 
hibit the profession and the use of arms. The 
soldiers who inquired of the forerunner of our 
Lord, what they should do to escape from the 
wrath to come, were directed, not to abandon 
their calling, but to continue in it, content 
with their w r ages % And Cornelius, the Gen- 
tile convert of Peter, whose prayers and alms 
had called down an instructing angel from 
above, is mentioned as a devout man, although 
he was a Centurion, or captain of an hundred 
soldiers f . 

III. Military service, however, occupies a very 
limited and subordinate place amongst the va- 
rious methods by which a love of our country 
may be signalized. If the case were otherwise, 
the sex, the age, the profession of many citi- 
zens, would exempt them from the obligation, 
or exclude them from the pleasure, of partici- 
pating in the discharge of this interesting duty. 
The rendering of pecuniary^ support to our coun- 
try, by voluntary benevolence if our circum- 
stances permit, or at least by a cheerful arid 
honest submission to all such public burdens as 
fall to our share, is an exertion of Patriotism, 
* Luke, iu. 14. f Acts, x. 7. 



$4t SERMON IV. 

much more comprehensive in regard to the 
classes of citizens of whom it is demanded. 
Never let narrowed private finances, or the 
hardships of a particular juncture, prevail with 
us, during seasons of warfare, to clamour for 
premature pacification ; if sober and unbiassed 
reason convince us, that such an event would 
purchase momentary relief, and hazard eventual 
ruin ; — would prove a short and deceitful calm, 
preparatory to a more dreadful storm ; — that it 
would betray our countrymen into a false secu- 
rity, which would only render them a more 
easy and certain prey to a watchful and unprin- 
cipled foe ; — in this manner lulling them in the 
lap of a Dalilah that the seven locks in which 
their strength consisted, might be shaven away 
during their inglorious slumber. Rather, on 
such an occasion, let us bear those ills we have, 
than fly to others that we know not of :— -let us 
patiently endure, and honestly share, the taxa- 
tions imposed by Government, as the means of 
preserving us from heavier evils : — and that we 
may endure them the more easily, as well as 
avoid temptation to any unfaithfulness in pay- 
ment, let us virtuously resolve to retrench our 
luxuries, and to subject ourselves to voluntary 
privations. And surely, while the sad account 
of the famine, the fatigue, the complicated suf- 
ferings, recently f sustained by our military com- 
* Judges, xvi. 18. f After the retreat to -Corunna* 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM, 



65 



patriots, in a long and harassing retreat, with 
all that patience, fortitude, perseverance, and 
determined valour, which are answerable to 
their character,— while this is yet fresh in our 
memories ; (distresses and calamities unques- 
tionably endured by them for the sake of their 
country, — inasmuch as they have been engaged, 
as at another Thermopylae, in intimidating the 
menacers of invasion ;)— it cannot be deemed 
unreasonable to demand, that we, who sit at 
home at our ease, should, in the same cause, 
undergo the inferior evils incurred by a con« 
scientious temporary contraction of our super- 
fluous expenses and enjoyments. 

An attention to the present circumstances of 
the country, has led me to confine myself 
thus far to a recommendation of submission to 
those unusual public burdens, which are inci- 
dental to a season of hostility. It is proper to 
add, thatrfor conducting the affairs of a great 
empire, for rewarding its public officers, for 
supporting its courts of justice (in which the 
judges must necessarily be remunerated out of 
the public purse, that they may stand above 
temptation to be biassed by private corruption) ; 
for maintaining such troops as are, at all sea- 
sons, requisite to the preservation of internal 
tranquillity ; and, finally, for discharging the in- 
terest and principal of the public debt; taxation 



66 



SEUMON IV. 



to a certain amount may be always expected by 
us, even in times of peace. Hence our Saviour 
and his Apostles, in establishing the willing and 
honourable payment of tribute* as a Christian 
duty, have delivered the authoritative precepts 
which recommend it, as applicable on all occa- 
sions. Render unto Cesar the things which are 
Ccesars 9 was the reply of Jesus to those who 
questioned him on the lawfulness of paying 
public assessments t and although, as the Son 
of God, himself exempt from tribute, Notwith- 
standing (said he to Peter), lest we offend them i 
go thou to the sea y and cast an hook, and opening 
the mouth of the first fish that comet h up, thou 
shalt find a piece of money : that take, and giw 
unto them for thee and we*. To the same effect 
are the admonitions of St. Paul : For this cause, 
that is, for conscience sake, pay ye tribute also : 
for they who demand it are God's ministers, at- 
tending continually on this very thing. Render 
therefore to all their dues: tribute to whom tribute, 
is due; custom to whom custom ; fear to whom 
fear; honour to whom honour f H 

It will further be considered by the Chris r 
iian patriot, that the payment of public taxes 
is, like any other debt, an act of ordinary 
justice. It is a debt due from every citizen, to, 
the state,, for the protection of his person and 
* Matt, xvii. 27. f Rom. mk Pi & 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 67 

property. The servant of God, then, who 
studies to walk honestly as in the day *, will 
scorn and dread to withhold his lawful propor- 
tion of it by any evasion or concealment ; he 
will satisfy the demands of the public creditor, 
as conscientiously as he endeavours to fulfil his 
engagements with any merchant or tradesman, 
who has supplied his private wants. Nay, he 
will regard the honourable payment of tribute, 
as a duty of charity as well as of justice. He 
will reflect, that whatever is culpably withheld 
must necessarily create some defalcation in the 
public revenue : a defalcation which, were it 
ever so little, must be supplied by an additional 
assessment levied on those citizens who render 
their tribute with integrity. Consequently, he 
will not cast on these, his brethren and fellow- 
labourers, a larger share of the common burden 
than, in strict equity, belongs to them ; because 
it is his principle, not to do unto others, that 
which he would not wish that they should do unto 
him f . 

IV. A patriotic service, in which all ranks 
and conditions are capable of concurring, and 
ought to concur, is the offering of supplications 
at the throne of Almighty God, for the preserva- 
tion and welfare of their native land. We may 
remark, however, that since it is the exclusive 
* Roqa. xiii, 13, f Matt, vii, 12, 

F £ 



4 



6$ SERMON IV. 

province of men, engaged in secular pur- 
suits, to arm and to act, this latter contribu- 
tion to the welfare of the body politic is pecu- 
liarly (though by no means exclusively) in- 
cumbent on the Ministty, on the softer sex, 
oil old age, and on childhood. Accordingly, in 
a fast mentioned by the Prophet Joel, we find 
the following injunctions prescribed : Blow the 
trumpet in Zimi ; sanctify a fast : assemble the 
elders : gather the children and them that suck 
the breasts : let the bridegroom go forth out of his 
chamber, and the Bride out of her closet : let the 
priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between 
the porch and the altar ; and let them say, Spare 
thy people, O Lord! and give not thine heritage 
to reproach*. 

Thus, in seasons of public humiliation, or 
public danger, ought persons of every age, and 
sex, and profession, but more particularly those 
to whom we have above alluded, pray for 
the peace of their Jerusalem^. To-day we are 
called upon (but, I trust, my fellow-wor- 
shippers, we shall likewise remember in our 
usual supplications) to make entreaty for the 
success of our arms by land and sea; — for 
abundant harvests, which may mitigate the 
evils of war;^ — for that wisdom and virtue 
in the national councils, which may steer 
us in safety through the storm ; — for internal 
* Joel;, ii. l§, 16, If. f Psalm cxxii. (3. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 



60 



union ; for national prosperity. It is not from 
our own strength or exertions, but onlv from trie 
favour of Providence, that these blessings are 
to be expected : for we know that every good 
and perfect gift comet k dozen from the Father of 
lights*. Humbly, and without harbouring a 
spirit of unchristian rancour, we must further 
request, that it may please Almighty God to 
abate the pride, to appease the malice, and to 
confound the devices, of our enemies, We are 
to entreat him to withhold, from any short- 
sighted wishes whieh we may form, a rash and 
destructive peace ; as w T ell as speediiy to bestow 
on us the blessing of a peace that is honour- 
able, secure, and lasting. Above all, it is our 
bounden duty to deplore our private and national 
offences ; and to deprecate, through the inter- 
cession of our blessed Redeemer, the wrath of 
God, which they have too justly merited. 

V, This leads me to a consideration of the 
last service whieh I shall mention, as a compo- 
nent part of Christian Patriotism : I allude to a 
general and comprehensive repentance^ a conversion 
from the heart of unbelief and from all dead morhs^ 
to be effected for the sake of our country > in addi- 
tion to the many higher motives by which this 
change of disposition and conduct is recom- 
mended, 

* James* L 2£* 

• , fS 



fO SERMON IV. 

Our prayers, we may rest assured, whether 
public or secret, will find no access to the fa- 
vour of God, unless they be accompanied with 
corresponding resolutions and exertions, sin- 
cere, strenuous, and dependant on divine grace. 
Is not this the fast (saith God) that I have 
chosen ; to loose the bands of wickedness ; to undo 
the heavy burdens ; to let the oppressed go free ; to 
deal thy bread to the hungry ; to bring the poor to 
thy house; to cover the naked when thou seest 
him ; and not to hide thyself from thine own flesh ? 
Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer : 
then shalt thou cry, and he shall say, Here I 
am t. 

We have, moreover, scriptural examples to 
prove, that repentance and obedience possess, 
no inconsiderable influence, through the great 
Mediator, in prevailing with the Deity to spare 
cities, which by their wickedness had incurred 
his displeasure. Within forty days shall Nineveh 
he destroyed, was the awful warning of the 
Prophet Jonah : but the Ninevites repented, 
and the threat was revoked f.— O / my Lord, 
said Abraham to the Almighty, when he came 
to destroy the sinful city of the plain, O ! my 
Lord, peradventure ten righteous persons shall be 

found there : and God said, I will not destroy it ) 

for tens sake J, 

* Isaiah, Iviii. 6 } % 9. f Jonah, iii. 4. 10, 

% Gen. xviii. 32. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 



71 



In this country, we have reason to believe, 
and to be thankful, the number of the penitent 
and righteous is incalculably greater : but it is 
proper to recollect, that that light of the 
Gospel hath shone upon us, which, if Sodom 
and Gomorrah had been blessed in beholding it, 
would have induced them to repent in sackcloth 
and ashes. Our advantages and means of improve- 
ment are more numerous and ample : and from 
those unto whom more has been given, more, 
doubtless, will proportionably be demandecP* 
What number of humbled and regenerated Pa- 
triots the Almighty may require, to induce him, 
under a higher intercession, to spare the British 
empire, it is true, we have no revelation which 
informs: us. Let it suffice to know that military 
prowess and political wisdom are not the only 
means by which we may aspire, to assist in avert- 
ing the destruction of our country. Not to those 
only, whose names stand conspicuous in the an- 
nals of history; who engage universal attention ; 
whose funerals are celebrated with the pomp of 
sorrow ; and to whose memory the monuments 
and cenotaphs of public gratitude arejitsihf 
reared ;— not to these exclusively belongs the 
title of general benefactors. — Fully as service- 
able, — probably in the eye of God mqrk ser- 
viceable to the community,— may be that lowly 
and obscure individual, who, while his nam§ 

* Luke,, xiL 48, 
J 4 



72 



SERMON IV. 



was never heard beyond his cottage circle or his 
village spire, while he has no power of display- 
ing, in the eyes of men, the warmth of his 
wishes for the general safety, contributes to 
the national treasury his two mites, of a timely, 
silent, secret, unnoticed repentance : — and thus 
co-operates in a good labour with other peni- 
tents, perhaps lowly and obscure as himself, 
but, although scattered over all the land, ca- 
pable of combining for its deliverance, and 
although probably unknown to each other as to 
the world, enabled to make separate offerings 
of contrition and amendment, which all arising 
from different and distant places, may gather 
into a cloud of moral incense, of a sweet-smelling 
savour before God. Thus it is not impossible, 
that a retired, domesticated woman, a feeble 
youth, an unlettered peasant, an abject outcast, 
may be an individual, whose reformation (if we 
may presume to state the supposition, and to 
use the bold expression) the Deity will regard 
as a completion of that number of converted 
and believing servants, on account of whom he 
will withdraw his outstretched arm of ven- 
geance, and convey peace to the walls and pa- 
laces of their Jerusalem. Shall I not spare 
Nineveh, that great city?—?-I will not destroy it 
for the ninety and nines sake. And what though 
it be not theirs to display valour in splendid 
achievements, and inscribe their names on the 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 73 

trophies of conquest : — what though their 
lot forbids that they shall be celebrated in the 
song of victory amongst the heroes, who have 
overwhelmed the fleets of the enemy in the 
deep, or pushed their own vessels on the hostile 
strand : — who have moved over a bridge of min- 
gled foes and comrades ; rushed up the steep to 
the open sepulchres of engines of destruction ; 
— and in watchings and famine, in perils by 
land and perils by the waters # , have purchased 
glory to themselves, and security to their fellow- 
citizens ! 

These are, indeed, exploits of daring and 
generosity, demanding public and permanent 
acknowledgment : and far be it from our wishes 
to tear a laurel from the brows of any who have 
performed them. But let us not place the 
passing splendours of the present world on a 
level with the glory of an inheritance which 
fadeth not away. Will it not be more honour- 
able for the Christian penitent to be mentioned 
in the book of life, as one of those, who having, 
under the influence of divine grace, swelled the 
number of the faithful in Jesus, became the 
hidden agents of Divine Providence in saving 
their empire from devastation and ruin, in con- 
veying tranquillity to its hearths, and protection 
to its altars? 

* 2 Cor. xi. 26, 



74 



SERMON IV. 



But I correct myself :— the disciples of the 
meek and lowly Jesus have learned from him an 
humility which forbids them to covet personal 
distinctions, even in a place of happiness. If 
they seek for palms, it is but to cast them be- 
fore the throne of the Most High, and to say. 
Not unto us, O God! not unto us, but unto thy 
name be the praise *. 

Having thus run over the most essential ser- 
vices, comprehended under the duty of loving 
our country, I shall hasten to close my discourse 
with a statement of several motives, by which 
this duty, as it is viewed by the religion o£ 
Jesus, and these services, are recommended. 

1. As I have already, in the former pai'fc of 
this address, laid before you, at sufficient length, 
the scriptural precepts or examples which are^ 
connected either with the general subject, or 
with its different branches, I shall not now de- 
tain you by recurring to that first and most 
cogent inducement, to the practice of the vir- 
tue under contemplation. You will remember, 
that to recommend the duty of Patriotism, the 
general consent of nations, the practice of the 
Jewish people, and the example of our Lord and 
pattern, have been adduced; while, in following 
that duty through its several details, every argu- 
* Psalm cxv, 1. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 



75 



ment has been reinforced by the mandates and 
authorities of the word of truth. Since then we 
possess motives for loving our country, with 
which the Heathens were wholly unacquainted, 
let us carry the duty to a more exalted pitch 
than their codes of law of rules of virtue pre- 
scribed. Since our patriotism is kindled at the 
altar of the sanctuary, let it burn with a 
brighter and a purer flame, than Pagan anti- 
quity ever boasted or beheld. But I now pro^ 
ceed to observe, in the second place, 

2. That to cultivate this duty, in the manner 
here recommended, is to afford the most ample 
scope and the most exalted gratification to a 
powerful natural impulse. It is natural to all 
men to love their country, merely because it is 
their country, and without any reference to its 
peculiar advantages *. In every region through- 
out the globe, however barren, and however 
bleak ; however tyrannous the government or 
miserable the people, this generous instinct is 
found to prevail. And it has even been re- 
marked, that by a wise law of nature, willing, 
as it would seem, that population should be dis- 
tributed in all quarters and districts of our 
earth alike, the poorer the soil, the stronger is 
usually the attachment to it. None are con- 

* Nescio qua natale solum dulcedine captos 
Ducit.— Ovid, ex Ponto, lib* k epist« 3. ver. 35, 



76 



SERMON IV. 



scious of a warmer affection for their first 
abodes, than the inhabitants of inhospitable 
mountains. The Highlander of Scotland and! 
the peasant of S witzerland cannot be naturalized 
in the kindliest climates : when far from home, 
they sicken in the midst of delights, and pine 
for their native wilds 



* Of the latter it has been thus justly and beautifully oh* 
served by f f certain of our poets 4" 

** Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, 

**■ And dear that hill which lifts him from the storms \ 

" And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, 

4< Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, 

f* So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, 

'* But bind him to- his. native mountains mote," 1 

The celebrated Rans de Vacuus is a little air by which the 
inhabitants of Switzerland are so strongly affected, and when 
in foreign lands filled with so anxious a desire to return to their 
country, that in France, before the Revolution,, it was nol. 
permittee! to be played or sung on pain of death. 

ss When the Swiss soldiers chanced at any time to hear it, 
they would express their sensibility by sighs and tears, and 
would not unfrequently desert in the impulse of the moment s 
and such as showed silent dejection, and scorned so base a 
procedure, fell martyrs to their own feelings by a disease,, 
called by medical writers Nostalgia."—THORNXON's Medical 
Extracts, vol. iii. p. 255, 

Nostalgia is thus defined by Mr. Townsend in his The^ 
rapeutics: 

i( Impatience when absent from one's native home, and. 
vehement desire to return, attended by melancholy, loss of 
appetite, and want of sleep.— -This disease/' says he, (t is 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM;. 



77 



When, indeed, we reflect, by what a variety 
X)f ties men are, in all lands, bound to the place 
of their nativity, we cannot feel at all surprised 
that an attachment to it should be not only uni- 
versally prevalent, but vigorous and glowing: 
for when men think or speak of their country, 
they think or speak of wives, parents, children, 
friends, kindred ; they sum up in that one idea, 
the land where first their tongues were taught 



equally familiar to the Swiss and to the peasants of the 
Asturias, who have quitted their native mountains, and in 
many cases has proved fatal/' 

The following case of a Welch recruit is recorded by Dr. 
Hamilton of Ipswich, A. D. 178I : 

(< This young man was of a gloomy countenance, and 
complained of weakness. His pulse was frequent and small : 
he had little appetite 5 his sleep was disturbed by starting j he 
was atrophic, and his strength was so much reduced, that he 
could not leave his bed j yet he had no pain, no thirst, no 
cough. Neither wine, cordial stimulants, nor other tonics* 
had the least effect, for his pulse daily became quicker and 
smaller. 

" Evening exacerbations, and morning sweats, succeeded ? 
his nails became incurvated, and the tunica adnata of his 
eyes pellucid, attended by debility and emaciation in the 
extreme. 

ee In this situation, his sagacious physician obtained from 
the commanding officer, and communicated to his patient, a. 
promise of a furlough for six weeks. On this promise his ap- 
petite and strength returned, Jn a few days he was able to sit 
up, and in two months he^ left the hospital, being then per- 
fectly recovered.'* 



fS SERMON IV. 

to utter their Maker's praise, and their eyes to 
know the authors of their being*; the field 
of their boyish sports; the school of their 
opening understandings; the scene of their 
manly occupations ; the sacred soil of all their 
friendships, sympathies, and duties; the spot 
where those whom they esteem, reside, and 
those whom they have venerated, sleep; where 
they hope to grow old in respected toil, in the 
service of God and their neighbour ; to repose 
(if God do spare them) every man under his 
own vine and fig-tree, in the evening of life, 
after having borne the heat and burden of the 
day ; and to be laid with their fathers and kin-, 
dred at the last. What wonder that a term con- 
nected with so many endearing associations 
should kindle, in the coldest bosom, all the 
feelings of the most ardent attachment; — that 
it should readily incline the selfish to liberality, 
the sluggish to exertion, the prodigal to a cheer- 
ful self-denial, the soft and voluptuous to deter- 
mined hardship ; and all to rise up with one 
hand and heart in an indignant effort to repel 
the ingression of an invader! What wonder 
that the concourse and union of all these asso* 

* '* Cari sunt parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiares ; 
§ed omnis omnium caritates patria una complexa est." 

Cicero de Office lib. i. § 

Homer, Odyss. lib. ix. lin. 34. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM* f$ 

ciatkms should even countervail the evils of the 
worst climates and the worst governments ; and 
urge men, though battered by tempests, and 
crushed by oppression, to say of their native 
land, " Peace be within thy walls, and prospe- 
rity within thy palaces; if not for the mild- 
ness of thy seasons, if not for the lenience 
of thy rule — at least for my brethren and com- 
panions' sake I will now say, Peace be within 
thee : yea, because of the house of the Lord 
our God, I will seek to do thee good." 

Cultivate then, through all its branches, a 
duty, with which the compliance, far from im- 
posing restraint, is no more than the act of self- 
resignation to a delightful impulse of nature. 
When you subject this impulse to the holy 
sway of Christianity, you give it a sober, wise, 
and useful direction; you strengthen all the 
obligations imposed by it; and add several 
highly interesting and important services, which 
would not have presented themselves in a 
worldly view, to the details of obedience which 
it comprehends* From a passion too you con- 
vert it into a virtue ; and add the satisfaction 
of obeying it to the other pleasures of an ap- 
proving conscience. 

3. But however strong- this attachment may 
be found, hi the breasts of f mankind at large, it 



B6 sermon iv. 

$*£ or ought to be, more than commonly vigor- 
Otis, and productive of active exertion, in those 
of us, Britons : for there it is something more 
than an instinct, or a feeling inspired by natural 
ties and general associations. It is an affection 
for an object whose qualities are avowedly pre- 
eminent; and the coldest calculation of prudence 
and interest, as well as the dictates of Christianity 
and the impulse of natural feeling, must prompt 
the discharge of the duties arising from it. When 
we, my fellow-citizens, make mention of our 
country, we make honourable mention (not only 
of those objects of attachment which We 
possess in common with our whole race, but 
moreover) of a temperate climate and aland abun- 
dant in all the necessaries of life ; of a free con- 
stitution ; of civil liberty ; of wise and beneficial 
laws. We concentrate in the expression, the 
impartial administration of justice; trial by a 
jury of equals ; exemption from arbitrary im- 
prisonment; security of property; protection 
of life and character. We include in the phrase, 
the liberty of the press: we include liberty of 
conscience; the freedom enjoyed by each indi- 
vidual of worshipping his Maker, unmolested, 
in the way he prefers : so that every man of 
every sect may, on this day, say to Britain, in 
the words of the text, Because of the house of 
the Lord our God) I will seek to do thee good. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 



81 



You too, my poorer brethren, have, in the 
country in which it is your lot, your happiness, 
to have been born, and to dwell, peculiar rea- 
sons for an extraordinary patriotism. Whenever 
you call to mind your native land, you think 
of a land, in which employments are more va- 
rious, wages more liberal, industry better pro- 
tected, opportunities of rising in life, and of 
possessing its comforts, more numerous, than in 
any other. You recollect the Bibles which you 
have in your hands; the Gospel which is made 
plain to you ; the good sense, the information, 
the title to regard, which characterize you 
above the poor of other nations; all proceeding 
from the consideration you are held in, by that 
valuable constitution under which you are pro- 
tected. You summon to your remembrance 
your voice and influence, in the election of the 
Legislators of your country. You bring under 
your consideration a system of poor-laws, which 
(however deeply their extent may be regretted 
by some) you at least have reason to contemplate 
with respect, as a provision for unsuccessful 
industry, deserted childhood, and forlorn old 
age. You cause to pass before your view a 
long list of infirmaries, asylums, almshouses, 
hospitals, charity-schools ; funds for the sick, 
the destitute, the stranger, the insolvent debtor 
(and you very well know with how many other 
names I might swell this catalogue):— this is 

G 



82 



SERMON IV. 



Britain ; — this is your country. I ask you, to 
£ast your eyes over all the kingdoms of the 
world, and to tell me where there is any thing 
like such a provision for the comfort, the se- 
curity, the health, the education, the morals,— 
in one word, for the happiness of the inferior 
classes. It would be but mockery to ask you 
whether you discover a resemblance to it in any 
of those countries, which they who threaten to 
invade your territory have overrun. In these, 
indeed, you behold a dreadful and deplorable 
contrast to it. Remember then, that what you 
see there, is what you have to expect here, if 
you too do not say to your Jerusalem, to your 
country, by giving her the warmest of your 
good wishes, and the most strenuous of your 
active exertions, Peace be within thy walls, and 
prosperity within thy palaces. 

To draw towards a conclusion : — While all 
these considerations should powerfully induce 
us to love our native land, and to offer to it 
the various services of civil and military obedi- 
ence, of fidelity in the payment of tribute, of 
prayer, and of repentance, — we ought not, at 
any time, to forget that we are disciples of that 
Gospel, whose chief ornament and jewel is cha- 
rity ; and as such, bound, while we reserve our 
patriotism, not to overlook the still more im- 
perious, though not incompatible* duty of uni- 

4. 



Christian patriotism. 



83 



versal benevolence, The most enlightened 
nations of antiquity pushed their patriotism 
to an illiberal extent : they excluded foreign- 
ers from any share in their affections; they 
termed all nations, except their own> bar- 
barians ; and they treated them as they termed 
them. Their national animosities were not less 
violent than their patriotic attachments: they 
were as inveterate in hating their enemies, as 
impassioned in loving their fellow-citizens. And 
a regard for truth compels us to add, that a 
portion of this narrow spirit seems to have been 
an ingredient in that Jewish ignorance which 
God winked at, until the fulness of times 
should arrive*. 

Our blessed Saviour came into the world, to 
manifest his equal love for all mankind; and to 
recommend to them (not the same, for that 
would be impracticable, but) a similar philan- 
thropy. The rule laid down in the Gospel has 
respect to our condition, as beings living in the 
midst of wickedness and injustice, and permitted 
to exert some efforts of defence and resistance; 
since without these, our life would be a state 
of oppression and misery, which a merciful God 
could not design to be endured by his servants 
in return for their fidelity. The precepts enjoin- 
ing peace are accordingly, all of them, qualified 
* Acts, xvii. 30. 
£ 2 



SERMON IV. 



with reference to this condition. If it be pos- 
sible, and as much as lieth in you, live peaceably 
with all men % 

The defence of our country, then, against 
public hostility, is as allowable as the defence 
of our property against private robbery. And 
when it is considered, that all the signal actions, 
either by sea or land, which have of late years 
adorned the pages of our history, may be re- 
garded as defensive ; however we may deplore 
the fates of the fallen, with whatever lamenta- 
tion we may consecrate the memories of an 
. Abercrombie, a Nelson, and a Moore ; we can 
no more condemn as Christians, than we can 
grudge as Britons, the blood which they have 
poured out for our security. Yet we must not 
stretch, even in our ideas, the animosities, or 
the inflictions of warfare, further than is ne- 
cessary for defence. Our most relentless ene- 
mies have a claim upon our good offices. If 
thine enemy hunger y feed him ; if he thirst, give 
Mm d?*ink. I desire, my brethren, to leave this 
maxim upon your minds, as applicable, not 
only to your private differences, but to your be- 
haviour or sentiments with regard to all those, 
with whom you may at any time be engaged 
in war. Pray for their repentance ; and ? as far 

* Rom. xii. 18. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM* 



as is consistent with self-preservation, contri- 
bute to their welfare. 

Thus far may you be citizens of the world : 
for be assured, that any who bid you assume 
that character, and stifle within your breasts all 
predilection whatever for your own land, are 
wild enthusiasts, or, perhaps, partizans of your 
enemies. But to the extent which we have de- 
lineated, it is quite consistent with, nay, it is a 
part of a Christian love of your country, to re- 
gard all mankind as compatriots of the Jerusa- 
lem which is above. And to this extent, as 
disciples of Christ, you may rightly say unto 
them, your fellow-disciples, Because of the house 
of the Lord, our common God> I will seek to do 
you good, 

Finally In fulfilling our patriotic duties, let 
us ever anxiously beware of a spirit of worldly- 
mindedness ; — of an immoderate attachment to 
our political advantages ; — or indeed to any ad- 
vantages of the present transitory scene. While 
guarding and appreciating, as we ought, our 
birthright of national freedom, be it our chief 
care to secure our adoption as the sons of God, 
and to stand fast in that better liberty, wherewith 
Christ hath made us free. Let our affections be 
mainly fixed on that eternal home, which is 3 
properly speaking, the country of Christian 

M 



$6 SERMON IV. 

worshippers. Let us ever strive to conduct 
ourselves in the world as not forgetful that we 
have a more glorious fellow-citizenship with the 
saints on high; as conscious that on the earth 
we are but strangers and pilgrims, on whom it 
is incumbent to do all with a continual reference 
to the Canaan, whither we are going ; as con- 
sidering, in a word, that we have here no 
continuing city," or country, " but that we seek 
one to come # ." 

* Heb. ami. 14, 



87 



SERMON V. 

ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD, 
ST. LUKE, CHAP. XVIII. PART OF VERSE 22. 

Yet lackest thou one thing. 

The Gospel, in tendering salvation to mankind, 
has distinctly specified and stipulated certain 
conditions, which it is necessary that all those 
should strictly fulfil, who seek to obtain that in- 
estimable gift. Whatever, therefore, falls short 
of compliance with this stipulation, must needs 
be an idle beating of the air ; or, at best, can 
afford no assurance, no reasonable hope, of its 
conduciveness to everlasting happiness. And 
wherever there are any, (may it not be too justly 
feared, that in most assemblies of nominal 
Christians there are not a few?) who content 
themselves with such defective service, it be- 
comes the indispensable, however unwelcome, 
orTice of their public instructor, to disturb them 
amidst the slumber of their false security, by 
taking up his parable, and repeating in their 
ears the doctrine contained in the few significant 
words, Yet lackest thou one thing. 

c4 



88 



SERMON V. 



This delicate but keen rebuke was addressed 
by our blessed Saviour to a certain ruler, who 
had come to him under pretence of making an 
anxious inquiry after the true method of obtain- 
ing eternal life; but really (as appeared in the 
sequel) for the purpose of making a vain boast 
of his personal attainments in righteousness ; in 
this manner evidently depreciating, by impli- 
cation, the Gospel scheme of atonement. 

I propose, however, for the present, to dismiss 
from attention the particular circumstances re- 
lated in the context, and embracing the subject 
in a more enlarged view, to apply it to the spi- 
ritual condition and expectations of various 
large classes of professing Christians. 

li I may commence with propriety by ad- 
dressing the admonition, Yet lack ye one thing, 
to those who establish their hopes of admission 
into the Gospel covenant, on religious observ- 
ances, independently of moral obedience. From 
the earliest appearance of Christianity, indeed, 
professors of it have unfortunately never been 
wanting, though their numbers, in these latter 
times, we trust, are much reduced, who have 
perverted its genuine spirit, by affirming, that 
as it abolished the works of the ceremonial 
law, it superseded no less the ancient necessity 
of yielding strict compliance to the dictates of 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 89 



the moral code. Resting on the great doctrine 
of Justification by Faith, they have misrepre- 
sented, or misunderstood, the real nature of 
this principle, which they have treated as a 
naked assent to the truths of the Gospel, suf- 
ficiently efficacious on the part of man, for the 
ensurance of everlasting salvation. In consi- 
dering, and considering rightly, that without 
faith it is impossible to please God*, they have 
forgotten, that without holiness no man shall be- 
hold him f . 

To oppose this erroneous and destructive 
notion, which appeared to derive some slight 
plausibility from several misconstrued expres- 
sions employed by St. Paul, the Apostle James 
wrote his General Epistle. Not in any degree 
denying the efficacy of Faith, he shows, that 
Faith without works is dead; and decidedly pre- 
fers the believer who evinces his faith by his 
works, to him who places his reliance on a barren 
belief, unaccompanied by its proper and natural 
fruits of holiness. 

But this separation of principle from moral 
practice may assume a much more subtle and 
imposing form, than that of restricting obedi- 
ence to an exclusive assent to the evidence of 
scriptural facts. A man may be very ardent in 
* Heb. xi. <5. f Heb. xii. 14. 



90 



his devout affections ; impressing his brethren, 
and even himself, with the persuasion, that he 
loves Almighty God with all his heart and 
mind : — he may be frequent, regular, and ear- 
nest in prayer ; strict in his attendance on public 
worship; an habitual communicant; attentive 
to the duties of family devotion ; diligent in 
the daily search of the Scriptures; and tho- 
roughly versed in theological knowledge: — 
we shall admit, that there are even several 
moral services, naturally growing out of these 
religious habits, which our worshipper may 
carry to an exemplary height; his lips may 
never be polluted by a profane expression, and 
he may order his general conversation and de- 
portment with the most rigid decorum and 
gravity. 

In all this the disciple of revealed religion 
does what he ought to do ; he is what he ought 
to be; and God forbid that, in sketching the 
dark side of his character, we should be consi- 
dered as sanctioning the ridicule or opprobrium 
of libertinism, when directed against these its 
brighter lineaments. Yet, as we frequently 
observe an individual, such as has been here 
described, deficient in some essential points of 
the second table ; altogether forgetful, let us 
Say, for example, of humility, of forgiveness, of 
charitable conversation ; too little conscientious 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 91 



in respect of strict veracity, of reasonable self- 
denial, and of affections weaned from the world ; 
\ve should be failing in that fidelity and sincere 
love, which rightly divides to all the word of 
truth, and distributes spiritual counsel accord- 
ing to the necessities of each, if we neglected 
to apply unto this partial follower of Christ the 
important warning — Yet lackest thou one thing ; 
to undeceive him in his fond opinion, that a 
performance of religious services, however 
earnest, may relax, though but slightly, any 
part of bis obligation, to discharge his ordinary 
active duties towards his brethren. It would 
be venturing, as we shall soon find, too bold a 
statement, to allege, with some, that the sole 
and ultimate object of all religion is moral 
practice ; and that belief and devotion are only 
valuable by their conduciveness to that effect. 
Beyond question, compliance with the injunc- 
tions of the first table, is abstractedly a duty of 
itself. Moral righteousness, however, not less* 
assuredly, as it is the natural result, and the 
least fallible test, of fervent and sincere piety, 
must be regarded as the chief end proposed by 
the Deity, in inculcating the necessity of de- 
vout affections, of faith, and of religious ob- 
servances. If ye love me, keep my command* 
ments* : — Charity is pronounced to be the end of 
i he commandment \ and we are reminded, that 
* John, xiv. 23. f I Tim. i, 5* 



9* 



SERMON V. 



if we know these things, happy are we if we dm 
them % Nor will a deliberate deficiency, in but 
one branch of active duty, be compensated in the 
sight of God by even the strictest observance of 
all our other moral obligations. If thou yet 
lackest one service, — -if in keeping, generally, 
the moral law, thou slialt boldly assume the 
latitude of offending in only a single point,— 
though not perhaps far from the kingdom of 
Heaven, thou art as little an inhabitant of it as 
those who dwell at a greater distance. We are 
to follow our Lord fully, in faith and in mo- 
lality,- — in mercy and in justice,— in- little and 
in great commandments,— in the wilderness of 
self-denial not less than in the smooth way of 
the pleasant virtues. 

f, But if Faith and Devotion, separated from 
comprehensive morality, be, as we have thus 
endeavoured to show, imperfect and unavailing, 
with no less severity ought we next to con- 
demn, with no less anxiety to avoid, an oppo?* 
site defect— Belief and Morality, independent 
of Religious Service. 

They who disclaim and despise all piety, ima- 
gining their whole duty, as Christian disciples, 
to be comprised in faith and in moral obedience, 
can entertain no reasonable and well-grounded 

* John, xiii. If, 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 93 



hopes of attaining eternal happiness. Fot man 
has no positive assurance of a future state, ex- 
cepting that alone conveyed in the Gospel : and 
the Gospel promises its everlasting bliss to 
those only, who, in addition to the duties which 
they owe to their neighbour, shall be found to 
have loved God with all their hearts; and to 
have manifested their love of him by prayer 
and praise, by keeping his sabbaths, and reve- 
rencing his sanctuary. Exercises of devotion* 
indeed, are necessary to perfect — necessary 
to produce Christian morality. Of our- 
selves we are insufficient even to think, much 
more insufficient then to do 3 aught that is good*. 
Our sufficiency is of God ; without whom we can 
do nothing f. And that prayer is the appointed 
method of obtaining his assistance, we have 
iearned from the lips of our Divine Master: 
Ask and ye shall receive ; seek and ye shall find; 
knock and it shall be opened unto you %. Any 
man, therefore, who flatters himself with hopes 
of salvation, on the ground of a belief producing 
Christian holiness, to the exclusion of Chris- 
tian devotion, would be incapable of realizing 
his pretensions to holiness, even if in an 
union with a faithful assent to the Christian 
doctrines, it were sufficient for the attainment of 
the salvation expected : he would be incapable ? 
I say, without devout exercises, of becoming, 
* 2 Cor. iii. 5. f John, xw5. % Matt, vii. 8. 



94 



SERMON \\ 



in any degree, holy, as bis Father is holy; be 
cause grace is necessary to holiness, and devout 
exercises are the means of grace. Thus as faith 
detached from morality, is a tree producing no 
fruits; so is that morality which excludes reli- 
gious service, to he regarded as a bough torn 
away from its trunk, which quickly withers 
through lack of nourishment and life. But, 
after all, even to speak of Christian morality, or 
holiness, independently of the offices of devo- 
tion, is inaccurate, and involves a contradic- 
tion : for holiness is the fulfilling of the pre- 
ceptive law ; and no man can ever be affirmed 
to have fulfilled it, who has presumptuously 
neglected any one of the important precepts — 
Pray without ceasing * : — Forget not your assem- 
bling together | ; — Let a man examine himself % : 
—Search the Scriptures § : — This do in remem* 
hrance of me ||. 

3. Let us now, my friends, in the third place, 
direct our attention to another large class in the 
Christian community, composed of those per- 
sons who, professing to admire, and to practise, 
the Gospel morality, do indeed combine it with 
a species of religion ; but not with that entire 
and pure religion which is revealed and pre- 
scribed in the word of truth. In principle 

* 1 Thess. v. 17. f Heb. x. 25. $ 1 Cor. xi. 28* 
% John, v. 39, || I Cor. xi. 215, 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 



94 



they hold tenets not in many respects supe- 
rior to the creed of natural religion. They be- 
lieve in one God; in a superintending Pro- 
vidence ; and in a future state of recompense, 
and punishment They are, moreover, impressed 
with a deep and just conviction as to the pro* 
priety and efficacy of prayer. They see and own 
the importance of public worship to the con> 
munity ; and will sanction it with their presence 
for the sake, as they avow, of maintaining de- 
cency, and of affording a right example. They 
will then lay their hands upon the sacred vo- 
lume, of which they very highly approve, in sp 
far as they discover it to coincide with prin- 
ciples which they deem thus reasonable, and to 
inculcate maxims and conduct thus salutary. 
Of the excellence of the Christian precepts, 
they speak with unbounded admiration : and 
while they propose (it is, in this place, needless 
to dispute their sincerity) an adoption of these 
rules as the guides of their own practice, they 
cease not to recommend them to their children, 
to their domestics, and to ail within the sphere 
of their influence or persuasion. But having 
gone thus far, their orthodoxy unhappily stops 
short. In leaving it to zealots to contend for 
modes of faith — in resting their belief on a 
poetical persuasion, that " he cannot err whose 
life is in the right" — in holding the language, 
u I worship as my fathers did ; I heed not the 



96 



SERMON V. 



vain disputes of theology, and pretend to draw 
no nice distinctions ; endeavouring to follow 
out what is plain and practicable in the Bible, 
not puzzling* myself with matters that are dif- 
ficult and perplexed, and believing, in short, that 
every honest man, no matter what his creed, will 
find admittance into heaven — in all this, there 
is a false appearance of manliness, liberality, 
and superiority to bigoted notions, with which 
they are highly fascinated. Thus disciplined, 
such characters rank themselves under the ban- 
ners of Jesus ; they profess and call themselves 
Christians ; and they look forward to their pos- 
session of the rewards proposed by the Gospel, 
with a confidence and security which has never 
once harboured the faintest notion of the pos- 
sibility of disappointment. 

Now, strongly as this case has here been 
stated (and I suspect I have been drawing a 
portrait, in the contemplation of which no small 
number of my hearers will recognise their own 
resemblance), the word of God most amply 
warrants me in declaring to any one whom it 
shall happen to resemble — All this is not 
enough: thou art weighed in the balances., and 
found wanting ; — yet lackest thou one thing. 

It is important to remark, that the nominal 
Christians alluded to, treat with the most con- 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 57 



temptuous disregard and disrespect whatever 
the sacred volume recommends to their assent, 
which in any degree baffles the comprehension 
of human reason, or soars above the region of 
ordinary experience. Whatever points bear even 
the slightest appearance of mystery,- — the voice 
of inspired prediction, and the narratives of mi- 
raculous agencies, are either exposed to ridicule, 
or passed over with a prudent silence, as the 
excrescences and defects of a system in other 
respects beautiful ; as superstitious fables with 
which the artifice and credulity of man have 
debased the pure and genuine revelation of God. 
To the grand doctrines of the Gospel they are 
not less inattentive. The insincerity of that ex- 
ternal respect, with which, in deference to the 
popular faith, or, in their own language, to the 
popular prejudice, they compliment these 
truths in presence of the multitude, is abun- 
dantly manifested by the cold sneer which is 
cast on them in the secure retreat of the private 
or convivial circle ; and the friend who shall 
approach sufficiently near them, to ascertain 
their undisguised sentiments, discovers their 
whole creed to be briefly summed up in this 
— that belief in futurity, and correct moral 
service, is all that is absolutely required at 
their hands; and that with respect to the arcana 
of evangelical information, they are super- 
fluities; into the truth or falsehood of which 

H 



98 



SERMON" V. 



there is no strict occasion for minutely prying ; 
— opinions which, as established, they will not 
seek to disturb, but which are, in reality, 
altogether unfit for men of the world, for men 
of free thoughts and vigorous understandings. 
Thus, without a Redeemer, without a supporting 
Spirit, they look for the benefits of redemption, 
and make pretensions to an acceptable morality. 
Doubtless, then, it is an office of importance, 
and of kindness, to remind them, that that 
very Scripture from which they derive their 
scheme of morals, and on the information of 
which they build up their hopes of futurity— 
that Scripture, which must either be altogether 
rejected, or admitted in all its parts, and with 
all its information, as we have received it, de- 
clares expressly, that there is none other name 
given under heaven, whereby we may attain ever- 
lasting salvation, but only the name of our Lord 
Jesus Christ — God and Man f : — and again, that 
no man can come into the tvay of truth, unless the 
Father, by his Spirit, draw him f . 

Indeed, if they who attempt to tack together 
their Natural Theology with a Christian £ prac- 
tice and hopes ; if these Deists of Revelation (for 
such, in describing them, is the inconsistency 
in language to which we are compelled to have 
recourse) were observed to be very strenuous, or 
very successful, in yielding obedience to the 
* Acts, iv. 12. f John, yu 44. 



on a defective service of god. 



99 



comprehensive precepts of the Gospel; if a belief 
in the doctrines of revealed religion were not ge- 
nerally necessary, as could easily be proved, to 
the discharge of such obedience, it might not 
perhaps be prudent to offer these remonstrances. 
The case of moral agents so upright and irre- 
proachable, might be left in the hands of God ; 
although, even on this supposition of their ap- 
proach to excellence, one important and inte- 
resting virtue at least — that of humility — would 
be sought for in vain amongst their good qua- 
lities : — humility — that pilgrim's garb — that 
supplicant's aspect — that soft and subdued 
grace of the Christian character, which arises 
from the disavowal of personal righteousness, 
and from recumbence on the Saviour for salva- 
tion and for succour. But as we may confidently 
make an appeal to well-known facts, in affirm- 
ing that such characters usually fix their stand- 
ard of attainment at a point exceedingly low ; 
ever claiming allowances for their infirmity 
and their temptations ; and boldly encroaching 
on the mercy of God, while they still more 
boldly deny the efficacy of that scheme of re» 
demption which alone elevates his mercy above 
his justice : — and further, since, even if in 
theory, their notions, as to what degrees of 
obedience are sufficient or practicable, were 
commensurate with the very highest claims of 
Christianity, Christianity itself, and the voice 

H 8 



100 



SERMON V. 



of experience, concur in declaring, that man is; 
too depraved to practise, by his own natural 
strength, a virtue at all worthy of the lowest 
conceivable degree of everlasting happiness : — - 
these things being so, it is humbly presumed 
that we offer but a gentle rebuke or caution to 
any individual who denies the merits of the 
Saviour, or despises the assistances of grace, in 
applying to him the address, Yet lackest thou 
one thing. 

4. So large a portion of our limited time has 
been occupied in discussing this important head 
of discourse, that I am compelled to pass by 
with a very slight notice, the last description 
of professing Christians, to whose case the 
words of the text appear suitable. 

We may profess and believe all the articles of 
the Christian faith; we may endeavour to walk 
in all the ordinances of God blameless ; but al- 
though we thus rise in the scale of religious and 
moral service, and advance nearer to the mea- 
sure of the stature of the fulness of Christ*, we 
shall still lack one essential and vital thing, and 
all this will profit us nought, unless our belief 
and obedience be found to proceed purely from 
a heart rightly affected towards God. It is pos- 
sible for faith to be a cold conviction ; for obe- 
dience to be a prudential calculation. We may 
* Ephes. iv. 13. 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 101 



be enamoured of godliness, because it is great 
present gain ; — gain in interest, in reputation, 
in health, and in convenience. And we may- 
be disposed to assent to all the truths of the 
Gospel, and to reverence its religious appoint- 
ments, from reflecting, that, in addition to 
these worldly considerations, the further ad- 
vantage of securing the life to come is proposed, 
and not to be rejected. Now all these prin- 
ciples may certainly enter, with propriety, into 
the motives of a sincere Christian; but they 
ought to hold a very narrow and subordinate 
place in his breast. A pure and an earnest love 
towards God, arising from the contemplation 
and esteem of his perfections ; gratitude for his 
bounties so richly unfolded, and so profusely 
scattered, in the several works of creation, of 
providence, redemption, and grace; zeal to 
promote his glory, and to walk in every way 
worthy of the high calling of heirs of his king- 
dom—these ought to enter into the mass of our 
religion and duty ; to animate them as their 
grand informing principle, their life, and their 
soul; and so to pervade the breast, as to leave 
but little space for worldly and selfish considera- 
tions. 

This is indeed that offering on which I insist 
the more anxiously, conscious that it compre- 
hends every other branch of service, on which 

u 3 



102 



SERMON V. 



I have before expatiated. Let love, gratitude, 
zeal be settled in the heart, and we shall 
then think no more of paying to the object 
of these affections a stinted and defective 
service, either in our religious or our prac- 
tical duties. We shall no longer stand* if I 
may presume so to speak, haggling with the 
Almighty Father of the universe, trying how 
closely we may press him in the Covenant ; and 
searching the Scriptures with a view to ascertain 
how little will suffice to secure us from everlast- 
ing ruin — how far it may be safe to tread on for- 
bidden ground — whether, in giving faith, we 
may reserve a portion of works ; or in perform- 
ing moral duties, we may be regardless of adora- 
tion ; or in serving God, retain some pride of 
opinion, or satisfy ourselves with a service raised 
on worldly views, or. on earth-alloyed and doubt- 
ful motives. No; we shall then give him, 
freely and cheerfully, all that he requires, and 
all that we have : we will give him faith and 
w r orks, and prayers and alms, and strength and 
soul, and faculties and affections ; — and after 
we have given him all, think that we have 
given him too little ; — that we can never give 
him enough ; — that we still are, and at the high- 
est practicable elevation of human obedience, 
that we ever shall continue, — unprofitable ser-, 
vauts and insolvent debtors. 



ON" A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOD. 105 

Every thing inferior to this surrender of the 
predilections — this tribute of the heart — this 
glow of the feelings — this clinging of the at- 
tachment — this entire and unreserved and cheer- 
ful dedication of the whole man — this salience 
and ascension of the soul to meet its God and 
Saviour, — may be worldly wisdom, may be 
worldly virtue; but it is not the extent of 
what the Almighty demands ; it is not pure 
religion ; it is not genuine Christianity. My 
$o?i, give me thy heart % But if thou wilt grudge 
and withhold it, the inference is unavoidable; 
Yet lackest thou one thing. 

Beware, then, my fellow-disciples, beware, in 
the superintendence and regulation of your dis- 
position, principles, and conduct, lest, through in- 
attention to some essential department of duty, 
your partial services be wholly frustrated ; — lest 
you be found to have either believed or laboured 
in vain ; and lest, having been not far from your 
eternal recompense, you should yet unhappily 
fall short of its glory. Serve God truly ; serve 
him comprehensively; serve him with an at- 
tached and a perfect heart. Think not to please 
him — presume not to lay confident hold on the 
unspeakable benefits of Christian redemption, 
by offering upon his altar religion without mo- 
rality, or morals apart from religious service ; 

* Prcv, xxiii. 26, 
H 4 



404 



SERMON \\ 



dr the principles of an enlightened and decent 
Deist, who pretends to borrow his law of prac- 
tice and his hopes from Revelation, in place of 
the united principles and practice of a Chris- 
tian ; or, lastly, the belief and practice without 
the animating spirit, the ardour, energy, and 
feeling enjoined by the Gospel After your 
firmest resolves, and your most strenuous en- 
deavours, you will, it is true, still, in one sense, 
lack many things. You will be weak, faulty, 
sinful, unjustifiable ; you will have many tres- 
passes of infirmity, and not a few, perhaps, of 
presumption, to provoke the divine severity. 
For these, however, ample allowances will be 
made. For these, on your sincere repentance, 
the Almighty has provided a remedy, in the 
merits and mediation of the ever blessed Re- 
deemer. But if you are going forward towards 
the grave, in deliberate reliance on a service, 
imperfect in any of the respects now enume- 
rated, tremble, for you are proceeding in the 
path of self-delusion ; — despair, or stop short, 
for you are advancing to the gulf of destruc- 
tion. What then, in a few words, must man 
do to be saved*? Thou shalt love (not the God 
of unassisted reason, but) the Lord thy God f , 
the God of Revelation, the God of Christians, 
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul; and 
thy neighbour, in all things, as thyself. This 
do, and thou .shalt live J. On these two com- 
* Acts, xvi. 30. f Luke, x. 2?. $ Matt. xxii. 40. 



ON A DEFECTIVE SERVICE OF GOP. 105 



mandments hang the law and the Prophets. 
On these two commandments, fairly inter- 
preted, and comprehensively considered, hang 
the Evangelists, the Apostles, and the GospeL 



106 



SERMON VI. 

THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 



1 CORINTHIANS, CHAP. IX. LATTER PART OF 
VERSE 24. 

So run, that ye may obtain. 

In the neighbourhood of Corinth were exhi- 
bited those public games, in which the Heathen 
world so greatly delighted. The city of Co- 
rinth itself, indeed, stood, as is well known, on 
a narrow neck of land, or isthmus, to which the 
field of one of these spectacles was so contiguous, 
as to distinguish it by the name of Isthmian : 
nor did the scenes of the others lie at any consi- 
derable distance. Hither, every fourth year, 
an immense concourse of people resorted from 
all parts of the civilized world, to witness feats 
of strength, and contests in agility. Among 
these exercises, the foot-race, as historians re- 
late, was not the least distinguished. The 
combatants, previous to the time of trial, under- 
went a long course of preparatory discipline. 
By inuring their bodies to much hardship and 
fatigue ; by submitting to the most abstemious 
regimen, and by a frequent and daily practice 
in those manly exercises, wherein they hoped 
for distinction, they brought themselves into a 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 



107 



state of readiness for contending with a fair 
prospect of success. When the day of compe- 
tition at length arrived, they who were about 
to run for the prize on foot, cast off their gar- 
ments, anointed their limbs with oil, and dis- 
ensras-ed themselves from every kind of incum- 
brance or weight, which might at all retard the 
nimbleness of their motions, and the swiftness 
of their progress. To conquer in these contests 
was regarded as one of the highest honours to 
which man could hope to attain. The intrinsic 
value of the rewards immediately received, was 
not, it is true, considerable; the successful 
candidates being deemed amply recompensed, in 
obtaining a crown of olive, or of laurel. On 
returning, however, to their several cities, a 
breach was made in the walls for their entrance; 
and, during the rest of their lives, in addition 
to the glory they had earned (to that meed 
which they chiefly prized), they enjoyed repose 
and plenty ; being maintained in a public hall, 
at the expense of their fellow-citizens. 

This short account of the ancient Pagan 
games, will serve to throw light on several 
passages of Scripture. St. Paul makes frequent 
allusion to these contests; and it must be evi- 
dent that he could in no case, with greater pro- 
priety, enforce his reasonings by similitudes 
derived from them, than when addressing him- 



108 



SERMON ft. 



self to the Corinthians, to whom they were 
rendered familiar, by vicinity to the courses on 
which most of them were celebrated. 

Know ye not, says he, that they which run in 
in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize ? So 
run that ye may obtain. — And every man that 
striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things: 
now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but 
we an incorruptible : I therefore so run, not as un- 
certainly ; so fight I (an allusion to preparation 
for the exercise of wrestling, likewise practised 
at the Pagan games), so fight I, not as one beating 
the air ; but I keep under my body, and bring it 
into subjection *. — Wherefore, he writes to the 
Hebrews, seeing we are encompassed with so great 
a cloud of witnesses (glancing at the numerous 
spectators of the Grecian contests), let us lay 
aside every weight, and run with patience the race 
that is set before us f . And to Timothy he thus, 
at the close of life, addresses himself : — / have 
fought the good fight ; I have finished my course; 
henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness %. It is manifest, that the Apostle, 
in all these passages, borrows his comparisons 
from the Heathen spectacles, in recommending 
ardour in our spiritual course, or in displaying 
the magnitude and value of our everlasting 
reward. 

* 1 Cor. ix. 24, &c. f Heb. xii. I. | 2 Tim. iv. 7. 
4 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 



109 



The chief duties pointed out by this compa- 
rison, as enabling Christian disciples to run the 
race that is set before them, so that they may 
obtain the glorious recompense proposed, seem 
to be these three : — 

1st, Bringing the body into subjection, 
2dly, Laying aside every weight and incum-* 
brance. 

And 3dly, Patient perseverance in their hea- 
venly course. 

] st. We find that the combatants in the 
Grecian games subjected themselves to much 
self-denial and hardship, and were temperate 
in all things, when preparing for the course. In 
like manner will it behove the followers of Jesus 
Christ, to adapt themselves for running the race 
of life, by the previous discipline of bringing 
the body into subjection. The body is one of 
those spiritual enemies, whom at our baptism 
we promised to subdue : and fully is every 
child of Adam aware, that there is in his breast 
a law of the members warring against the law 
of the mind. Now we well know that the in- 
temperate use of bounties designed by Provi- 
dence for our nourishment, strengthens the 
former law ; we know that it is a nurse of those 
angry passions and evil inclinations, which, 
even without being inflamed or propelled, re- 
quire all the force and vigilance of principle, 



110 



SERMON Yr* 



aided by divine grace, for their due control. 
Hence temperance, self-denial, and abstinence 
from hurtful things # , become highly essential 
branches of Christian obedience; since wicked- 
ness is the most securely avoided when we keep 
it at a distance, by resisting the first and re- 
motest occasions of it. But, 

2dly, After this preparatory attention, the 
next requisite to success in the Christian course 
is stated by the Apostle to be, the laying aside 
of every weight. As the competitors in the 
Heathen games divested themselves of their 
flowing garments, and stood disencumbered 
from every hindrance to the swiftness of their^ 
progress, the followers of Jesus should stand 
not less disengaged, from all impediments to 
their advancement towards perfection. Pur- 
suing this allusion, we may pronounce worldly- 
mindedness, or an immoderate love for the pos- 
sessions, the pursuits, the enjoyments of this 
vain scene, to be one weight deserving of being 
laid aside, as impeding the soul which aspires 
after a better. May not he who fondly dotes 
on things below, whose attention is almost ex- 
clusively engaged in the projects of pulling 
down his granaries and building larger ; in the 

* Qui studet optatara cursu contingere metam, 
Multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit r 
Abstinuit, &c. Hor. 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 



Ill 



calculation of advantages ; in the establishment 
of connexions ; in whatever, in short, belongs 
to ambition or avarice, while an awful futurity 
holds at best only a secondary and a narrow 
place in his thoughts and affections ; may not 
such a man — and every society of professing 
Christians, there is reason to fear, comprehends 
many characters answering too faithfully to the 
description' — -be regarded as running a race in a 
loose and weighty robe, which at the least re- 
tards his speed, if it prove not the occasion of 
his stumbling? He does not so run that he may 
obtain : for the combatants unto whom the vic- 
tory is promised, have been portrayed as stand- 
ing with their loins girded, and with every 
weight laid aside. 

Our progress in the course of heaven is like- 
wise impeded, by the weight of spiritual list- 
lessness. We would fain obtain the rewards 
proposed by our divine Master, could they be 
gained by the idle adoption of speculative re- 
ligious opinions, by the profession of a fruitless 
belief, or by the practice of some few agreeable 
and easy services ; but we judge it to be too 
arduous an undertaking to follow him, through 
the activity of energetic, or the self-denial of pain- 
ful duties. We seek the palms without the dust 
of the course*; the consolations, but not the 
toils, of religion. We shrink from the thought of 
* Sine pulvere palmas.— Hon. 



SERMON VI. 



surmounting any obstacle, of rousing to any 
exertion, of enduring any restraint, of taking 
up any thing resembling a cross, in following 
that Leader who hath showed us how to enter, 
to continue, and to finish our course with 
energy and joy. Or perhaps we may loiter at 
the present moment, looking forward to a pro* 
posed acceleration of speed, to be performed at 
some indefinite future period. If, however, we 
seek to secure a recompense of glory, we must 
lose no time ; we must up and be doing : — dis- 
encumbered from the weight of disinclination 
to diligence, and serving God with fervency of 
spirit. 

A third incumbrance to be cast away by 
those who desire to run their spiritual race with 
success, is their prevailing weakness, their 
distinguishing propensity to evil. Let us lay 
aside every weight, and the sin which most easily 
besets us*. Bodily temperament, education, 
habit, surrounding circumstances, and condi- 
tion or calling in life, give every person a bias 
to some particular offence. One individual is 
peculiarly prone to avarice, another to profu- 
sion ; — this man is naturally inclined to vanity, 
that to ambition ; — a third to anger : — the pre- 
dominant infirmity with some is idleness; with 
others, voluptuousness; with many, pride. And 
we need not doubt, that to combat our favourite 
* Heb. xii. I* 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. IIS 

inclination; to convert slothfulness into dili- 
gence; religious coldness into zeal ; unruly ap- 
petite into self-control, and irritability of tem- 
per into complacency and sweetness ; — to enter 
into a covenant with the roving eye, the pro- 
fane tongue, or the prodigal hand, that they 
shall henceforth abstain from the trespasses 
which nature prompts, and which habit perhaps 
has confirmed ; — must be a testimony of dutiful- 
ness, and an offering of praise, more pleasing to 
the Almighty than the cattle upon a thousand 
hills. Let each of us then study to acquire a 
knowledge of his own mind ; and whenever he 
shall have discovered his vulnerable part, there; 
let him establish his strictest watch. Let him 
there be jealous even of innocent indulgences, 
with which he knows danger to be ever so re- 
motely connected. There let all the eyes of 
principle be continually awake, to keep at a 
distance the first suggestions of temptation,; 
the faintest appearances of evil. There let him 
ever beseech Almighty God to plant the strong- 
est reinforcements of his grace. — By these 
means is laid aside the weight of a besetting 
sin — the chief impediment in the Christian 
course. 

Sdly, Perseverance in this course is the last 
duty enjoined by the comparison which the 
Apostle has in this passage instituted. We must ; 



414 



SERMON VI. 



run with patience * the race that is set before us. 
This duty, it merits to be carefully observed, 
has a reference to both the others already re- 
commended. We must persevere in our pre- 
paratory discipline of moderation and restraint, 
as well as in the act of running on our heavenly 
Course I mean in disentangling ourselves 
from all incumbrances upon our speed, and in 
diligently surmounting the various obstacles to 
our progress. The combatants of old under- 
went a long course of self-denial, in which they 
Strictly and unremittingly persisted for many 
months; and pushed forward, on the day of 
actual contest, with unabated ardour to the 
goal, ever keeping in view the high reward of 
their toil ; and neither induced by the intense 
heat of the day, nor by the clouds of dust, nor 
by the length of the course, nor by the love of 
inglorious repose, to resign their emulation for 
the mastery, or even to stop short for a breath- 
ing. Behold the example which stimulates us, 
my fellow-labourers, in running the nobler race 
of Christianity, to hold fast the profession of 
our faith without wavering f, and to continue the 
faithful servants of our Master, Christ, even 
unto our lives' end^. We may lay our account 
with meeting impediments in our progress ; 
with allurements and temptations to the slack- 
ening of our pace, or to desisting from the pu*» 
suit of our object. Some will, doubtless, 
* H$b. xii. X. -fr Heb. x. 23. % Baptismal Service. 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 1 J 5 

invited back to the world by the syren song of 
indolence and voluptuousness, chanted by their 
own depraved inclinations, and re-echoed by 
their evil counsellors. Some will be tempted 
by that fatal self-delusion, which holds out a 
promise of the divine indulgence to temporary 
intermissions of diligence. Others will be en- 
dangered by those difficulties and disgusts, 
which, with the intent of deterring them from 
perseverance in their spiritual course, their 
grand adversary throws in the way of a life of 
holiness : by a view of the limited extent of 
their services ; by a timid dread, which is apt 
to arise in the humble breast, of the unaccept- 
ableness of well-meant, though abortive, exer- 
tions. Satan will attempt to divert many from 
their way, by contrasting the uniformity and rer 
straints of a life of obedience, with the variety 
and freedom to be enjo}^ed in the courts of sin. 
To no small number, the absence of that pror 
sperity, and of those temporary advantages, 
which sometimes, though not invariably, con- 
stitute the earthly rewards of virtue ; — to others, 
the privation of comforts or enjoyments, th# 
misinterpretation of their motives, the cen- 
sures that may be unjustly thrown on their 
better actions, will prove a severe trial. But, 
my Christian brethren, in the view of sober 
judgment, I am confident you will regard such 
temptations a& insignificant; and unmoved by 

IS 



116 



SERMON VI. 



any of these things — yea, counting not your 
Ikes to be dear unto yourselves, so that you 
may finish your course with joy # — you will 
surely determine not to be weary in well-doing f : 
since you know, (consolatory and blessed as- 
surance !) that, in due time, ye shall e?rjcy, if 
ye faint not % ; that he who endureih unto the end 
shall be saved; and that although your remune- 
ration be withheld for a season—for the whole 
brief season of the present existence — your 
Judge will certainly at the last arise, to vindi- 
cate his providence, to avenge his elect §, to 
execute and administer strict justice upon the 
earth, and to deal cut to the faithful that 
ample recompense, which it is surely worth suf- 
fering and resisting far more, than they have 
ever been tried with, to receive. 

But still further : — perseverance implies pro- 
gression. Not to go forward, says the pro^ 
verb, is to fall back. Diligence is not only 
to be persisted in, but to be quickened : for 
our Lord, we know, has commanded his dis- 
ciples to go on, from strength to strength ||. 
Not halting, while any part of the course 
remains untraversed ; satisfied with no attain- 
ment while there is higher excellence in 
view; not mistaking a stage in the way of 
righteousness for the goal,* let the followers of 

* Arts, xx. 24. f Gal. vi. 9, % Matt. x. j$2, 
I Luke, xviiL 7- il Psalm Ixxxiv. jr. 



THE CHRISTIAN" RACE. 117 

Jesus study to regard the grave as the only 
resting-place allowed to their feet. Let them 
not account themselves to have already at- 
tained, either to be already perfect*: bat this 
one thing let them do — -forgetting, as insig- 
nificant, the attainments in obedience which 
are behind, and aspiring to the heights which 
remain unclimbed — looking forward to the 
immeasurable distance which still remains be- 
twixt their imperfect holiness and the standard 
of their duty, let them press towards the mark 
for the prize — a prize how glorious! — even the 
high calling of God in Christ Jesus f . Be thou 
faithful, and advance in holiness unto death } and 
I will give thee a crown of life 

How just, and yet how humiliating, is the 
scriptural observation, that the children of the 
present world are wiser in their generation than 
the children of light ! These require not that any 
one should admonish them, so to run that they 
way obtain. Whether their object be wealth, or 
power, or fame, they place it, and they hold it 
steadily, before their view. It is the darling 
wish of their inmost souls ; the cherished theme 
of all their secret musings : to remember it, is 
the thrilling of their nerves ; to compass it, the 
torture of their fancy. It visits them with the 
earliest gleam of dawn ; it mingles with them 

* Shil. iii. If. f Phil. iii. 14. $ Rev. ii. 10. 
I 3 



118 



in the crowd ; it attends them to the shade of 
solitude ; it rises to their conception, when they 
fold their eyes in slumber. They pant after it 
with unabated ardour ; they pursue it with un- 
wearied diligence. Thus they are continually 
running their race : and of their crown — poor 
and worthless as it is — they lose not sight for 
a moment. To how much self-denial, to how 
many inconveniencies do they subject them-' 
selves ! Some, on the world's service, will tra- 
verse half the globe ; will encounter the rough- 
est storms and perils of the ocean, and brave 
the trying vicissitudes of various climates :■ — 
some cheerfully submit to mean and servile of- 
fices ; while others waste their health by mid- 
night application. But however different the 
paths pursued, however various the ends desired, 
the observer may mark all to be feelingly alive, 
all eagerly advancing. No probable means of 
success in their respective views are left un- 
tried. No obstacles, no difficulties, no dangers 
intimidate them : the distance of their reward 
serves to quicken their exertion ; the apprehen- 
sion of failure adds interest to the object ; they 
break through all the barriers of resistance, and 
rise with fresh vigour from every disappoint- 
tnent 

Now, the sons of ambition, the children of 
the present world, will da all this for the pitiful 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 110 

sake* of obtaining — & corruptible crown, a pe- 
rishable possession, a bursting bubble; while 
we — strange infatuated beings— take no such 
pains (far less pains indeed are required of 
us) to obtain a crown that is incorruptible, as 
it is splendid. The objects for which they 
strive may not perhaps be attained, after all 
their fond anxieties, their watchings, and their 
labours : and if attained, may afford them but 
trifling satisfaction— at best, can yield satisfac- 
tion only for a little while ; for they all partake 
of the fashion of that world, which we know 
is itself passing away. Shall they then, who 
propose to themselves in their earthly course an 
uncertain, trivial, transitory happiness, exhibit 
a stricter self-denial, a severer self-command, 
a more unwearied perseverance, than we display 
— we, who are toiling after a sure, unsullied, 
unspeakable, eternal recompense? Shall men ? 
whose insignificant toy of desire is some worldly 
advantage, some low and fleeting enjoyment, 
manifest higher wisdom in adapting their means 
to their ends, than we who seek for glory, and 
honour, and immortality ? Do we read that the 
combatants in a Pagan race subjected them- 
selves for a length of time to many and great 
inconveniencies, and all to grasp a withering 
reward, and a short-lived applause— *a reward 
and an applause which many of them might 

i 4 



X 



I£0 sermon vr. 

lose, and which only one could in the end ob- 
tain ; — and can we endure to think that no sa- 
crifice of inclination, no exertion of virtue, 
shall he tendered to Heaven by those who run 
•the Christian course ; where the multitude of 
spectators, the cloud of witnesses, is vast and 
honourable; where God himself presides in 
their assembly ; where not one, but all, who run 
may be victorious ; where our fellow- combat- 
ants are saints destined to eternity ; and w^here 
the contest is not (as in an earthly race) a trial 
of jealousy, but a delightful rivalship of mu- 
tual endearment and reciprocal help ; a course 
where the very act of running has its plea- 
sures; where the honour of success is incon- 
ceivable; the shame and the pain attending 
failure dreadful; where the prize can be con- 
tended for no more than once ; and where that 
pnze is an inheritance that fadeth not away ? 

Never let so reproachful an imputation be al- 
leged. From those children of the Pagan world, 
who ran over an earthly course, let us learn so 
to run, that we may obtain. Let us deeply 
weigh those animating encouragements to the 
ardent and steady prosecution of our object, 
which to us are vouchsafed, but of which they 
were wholly destitute. Let us look unto Jesus, 
the author and finisher of our faith * — that 
* Heb. xii. 2* 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 131 

Master who hath trodden the way before us— • 
who knew and sustained all its difficulties and 
toils, enduring the cross, despising the pain*. 
Let us remember and imitate Him who bore sa 
much, and so gloriously taught his followers to 
endure, whenever in their advancement they 
slacken their pace, or begin to be faint and 
weary in their minds f. Let us rejoice to think, 
that by the intelligence which he imparted, and 
through the sufferings which he endured, we 
are now certified, that we so fight, not as one 
idly beating the air ; and that we run, not as 
uncertainly J, with regard to our view of vic- 
tory. Above all, let us gather animation in 
our course, from reflecting, that he hath pro- 
vided, in the gracious and potent influences of 
his Spirit (influences and aids of which they 
who strove in Pagan games, and who lived in 
the Pagan world, were utterly unacquainted), 
nerves to our weakness, spirits to our weari- 
ness, vigour to our resolution, help to our per- 
severance, and encouragement to our fears of 
failure. If happily we run, relying on his all- 
sufficiency, in having purchased our glorious 
recompense, and imploring to be succoured by 
his might in the inner man — not forgetting, at 
the same time, to put forth with eagerness our 
own strength — then shall we so run as certainly 
to obtain: for we are able to do all things 
* Heb. xii. 2. f Heb. xii, 3. % I Cor. ix. 2(5. 



SXRM-oisr Vf 4 

through Christ, which strengfheneth* ; and we 
shall be conquerors in the race that is set before 
us. Yes; I but repeat the venerable language 
of Scripture ; — We shall be more than conquerors 
through Him which loved uslf. 

Like the combatants of old, the unwearied 
disciple of Christ accelerates his speed, and re- 
doubles his diligence, as the space to be tra- 
versed becomes more and more contracted, and 
m the time allotted for journeying is further 
advanced. As he proceeds towards the goal, 
lie obtains a closer, and a more distinct view of 
his ample reward. This recruits his fainting 
Spirits. It stimulates his weariness to collect 
•ills remaining strength, and to throw it into 
the last exertion. And now the victor, termi- 
nating his career, is received by an innumerable 
^company of fellow-citizens on high. The vault 
of heaven rings with shouts and acclamations, 
'sent up by the spirits of just men made per- 
fect; while angels stand, all ready with their 
palms, to proclaim his name, and to celebrate 
his praises. It is finished % :~~his course is 
'finished with joy\. I hear the cry of triumph, 
and the welcome of congratulation. He reaches 
Ifae last line ||. He is comforted and recom- 

* Phil. iv. 13. f Rom. viii. 3/. % John, xix. 36, 
§ Acts, xx. 24. 

j| " Mors ultima linea rerum est:'' — a phrase deriving its 
beauty from the allusion to that line which was drawn acrogf 
$e extremity of the race-course* 



THE CHRISTIAN RACE. 125 

pensed with the approving Well done *, pro- 
nounced by the Judge and Remunerator of his 
toils. Lo ! the garland of immortality has 
dropped at his feet : and he -rests for ever 
from his labours. 



* Matt. xxv. 2.1. 



SERMON VII. 
5n the right government of thought. 



PSALM CXXXIX. VERSE 23. 

Search me, O God, and know my heart ; try me, 
and know my thoughts. 

Human legislators being incompetent to ob- 
serve what passes in the dark and secret recesses 
of the breast, their enactments relate only to 
actual injuries, to ostensible demonstrations of 
iniquity. God, discerning the heart of man, 
establishes laws which take cognizance of his 
thoughts. Nothing, indeed, can possibly ex- 
hibit the divine purity in a clearer or more 
striking light, than the condemnation of those 
faint suggestions of evil, which so frequently, 
like clouds, pass over the imagination. It 
shows (and in doing so, should abase that pre- 
sumptuous virtue which boasts of a faultless 
external conduct) that only a conception of 
sinfulness, though it die away in the heart 
which has entertained it, and never be embo- 
died in substantial transgression, is accounted 
by Heaven to be defiling to the soul, and is ob- 
noxious to the displeasure of immaculate Holi- 
mess. Nor does the wisdom of the Deity, in 
4 



ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 125 

such an appointment, appear less conspicuous 
than his purity. So refined, a view of duty en- 
ables us to satisfy our minds, that we act from 
motives of genuine piety. If we confined our 
caution to our actions alone, we might have 
cause to doubt, whether the love of human 
approbation were not, exclusively, our incen- 
tive to righteous conduct. By exercising a 
jealous control over thought, which to the eye 
of man is invisible, we learn that we are not 
deceived in supposing the love and fear of the 
Almighty to possess and to sway our minds. 
Besides, since thought is the spring of action ; 
since evil, when it hath conceived, bringeth 
forth sin * ; since whatsoever is guilty in con- 
duct, originated in depravity of intention; to 
watch and to purify thought and intention, is 
the more effectually to prevent the existence of 
crimes, and to secure innocence of living. Prin- 
ciple is thus surrounded with an additional 
fence, against the assaults of its wily enemy. 
Temptation is removed to a more secure dis- 
tance, than if it were suffered to take quiet pos- 
session of the affections, and we were only 
warned to beware of its breaking out in the 
conduct. We can crush it more easily by going 
forth to the encounter while it is yet afar orf^ 
than by tamely waiting for its nearer encroach- 
ments. Prudence makes sure its retreat from 
the, storm, in calling for its chariot, when' the 
* James* i. 15. 



l&G SERMON VII.. 

rising cloud appears to be no bigger than a 
man's hand # . Evil cherished in the fancy ga- 
thers strength from indulgence, and may soon 
become almost too powerful for resistance. A 
slight exertion might have strangled it in the 
cradle : but, despised in its infancy, it grows up 
into a formidable opponent. 

The Father of spirits having, for these wis© 
reasons, commanded us to carry back the con- 
trol of self-government from the actions to 
their source, you will allow it to be material 
that we should know precisely, what thoughts 
deserve to be pronounced criminal, and how 
Such as bear that character may be best avoided. 

From the variety of improper and prohibited 
conceptions which may lodge in the capacious 
storehouse of the human breast, and of which 
the attempt were fruitless to exhibit a com- 
plete enumeration, we may place at the head of 
our present selection, those which are the off- 
spring of idleness — thoughts not fixed upon 
3ny determinate subject, but roving about as 
chance or caprice directs. Such a loose current 
of our ideas deserves to be guarded against,— 
pot only as idleness in every shape is culpable, 
but further, as conscience knows full well, that 
when the mind is thus left unsettled and waa- 
«teiftf> rarjriy do the vigilance m&whv<$m?0 



ON THE EIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 127 

of our spiritual adversary fail to furnish a topic 
which shall fix its meditations : while his 
assaults are here the more to be dreaded, as 
from the negative criminality of musings sim- 
ply idle, his approach may perhaps be the less 
suspected. 

Equally censurable with idle meditations, are 
such as are occupied upon frivolous subjects. 
By these, much valuable time is squandered;-— 
talents, for the use of which we are accountable, 
are misapplied; — and the mind is sunk in a 
habit of languor and softness, which destroys 
all its relish for manly occupation, unfits it for 
active and useful exertion, and disposes it to 
voluptuousness, with its train of attendant 
evils. 

Allied to idle and frivolous conceptions, are 
those that are stamped with the character of 
vanity. When our secret reflections are per- 
mitted by us to turn upon an admiration of our 
own real or fancied good qualities ; when our 
minds silently swell with a notion of personal 
superiority, it is not to be questioned that we 
are then included in the censure addressed by 
the Prophet of old to Jerusalem : — Wash thy 
heart from wickedness ; koto long shall thy vaik 
■thoughts lodge within thee * f 

* J©r. iv. ljU 



128 



SERMON VII. 



In particular, my fellow-worshippers, I would 
beseech you to recollect, that the Pharisaical 
self-gratuktion here condemned assumes its 
very worst character, when it relates to the 
possession of any religious or moral pre-emi- 
nence : since it then too frequently speaks the 
language of self-deceit ; as when a man esteems 
himself something, when he is nothing* : always 
that of unchristian presumption ; for he who think- 
tth he standeth y ought to take heed lest he fall |. 

Proud schemes of future exaltation form as 
improper a theme for the ponderings of thought, 
as a sense of present excellence. For although 
it be prudent, and proper, within reasonable^ 
limits, to consider what improvements our con- 
dition is capable of, yet those aspiring, wild, 
ambitious views, which dissatisfy us with our 
lot, look high above our sphere, see happiness 
no where but in the possession of exorbitant 
wealth or power, and are continually employed 
in forming projects for the attainment of them, 
— you can be at no loss to see — are most widely 
different from an humble, and on that account 
a laudable, or allowable, desire of rising in 
life from poverty to worldly comfort, or from 
inutility to the power of distributing benefi- 
cence. Lord, said David, my heart is not 
haughty : — neither do I exercise myself in great 
matters, or in things too high for me %. 
* Gal. vi. 3. f l Cor. x. 12. % Psalm cxxxi. I* 



ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 129 

A similar line will be drawn by the disciple 
of Christ betwixt wise forethought and immo- 
derate concern about the morrow. That man 
has react his Bible to but little purpose, who re- 
gards it as inculcating a lesson of improvidence. 
Consider the approaching hour : — take precau- 
tion against the evil day :■ — this is, even in a 
temporal sense, the mandate of Christianity, 
not less than the maxim of worldly prudence: 
—for if any man provide not for his own house, 
he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an in- 
fidel*. But when we have made our reasonable 
arrangements of sagacity, and of diligence, we 
have there reached the utmost limit of duty : — « 
we err, and we rebel, in disquieting our minds 
with anxious or boding apprehensions as to the 
issue; which ought ever to be left, with the 
most implicit confidence, in the hands of the 
all-wise Disposer of events. 

As the heir of immortality must not busy his 
thoughts in looking up to the pinnacles of 
greatness, so, if fortune have placed him there, 
he will not less sedulously avoid supercilious 
musings, with reference to those beneath him. 
Contemptuousness, though latent in the spirit, 
is forbidden. Not only the high look, but th$ 
proud heart, is sin f . 

* lTim. v. S. f Prov. xxi. 4, 

K 



ISO 



SERMON VII. 



If it be unlawful to despise, it must neces- 
sarily be still more sinful to hate our brother, 
in imagination. At all times let us studyy 
therefore, with religious care, to deliver our 
breasts from malignant trains of thinking, in 
their various shades of envy, hatred, or resent* 
ment. Truly they are a legion of evil spirits: 
and the voice of resolute faith must charge 
them, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, that 
they come forth. Charity not only inflicteth 
— she thinketh no evil * 

The love of God, like brotherly love, ought: 
to exist/ by itself, as a principle in the heart, 
in entire abstraction from any reference to tha 
conduct. In this view, as malice violates our 
love towards man, repining is not less at vari- 
ance with that higher affection, which is due to 
the Almighty Governor. Both, as offences of 
the heart, are of serious magnitude ; though the 
former should never issue forth in an injury, or 
the latter be heard in an audible murmur. — 
When smarting, therefore, under affliction, sup- 
press, my Christian hearers, all those rebellious 
stirrings within the soul, which though but in 
conception, rashly arraign the goodness, or pre- 
sume to call in question the superintendence, 
of God. 

* 1 Cor. xiii. S. 



ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 131 

You need hardly be reminded in how clear 
and forcible language voluptuous conceptions 
are reprobated in the Gospel, as tainting to the 
purity of the soul. Ye have heard that it hath 
been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not 
commit adultery : but I say unto you, there is an 
adultery of the heart. 

Let it next be observed, that conduct un- 
lawful in itself, may reiterate its original sin- 
fulness in recollection : — as when, a long time 
after trespasses have been committed, we sum- 
mon back their shades by the magic of a de- 
praved mind * and endeavour, as it were, oncq 
more, in fancy, to realize the recalled illusions. 
Though, from age, poverty, or other change 
of circumstance, they be now happily no longer 
perpetrated, nevertheless, when thus ideally 
cherished, it is by no means safe, indeed it is 
most presumptuous, to rest satisfied that they 
are entirely forsaken. If they were forsaken, 
they would be forgotten too ; — or if recollected, 
recollected only with remorse. 

To a conscience of any delicacy it must, in 
like manner, be evident, that there is a parti- 
cular guilt of forecast, as well as of recollec- 
tion ; and this, apart from its sinfulness, in 
leading to the offence anticipated. A mind 
k 2 



which delights in transporting itself into the 
future, and m revelling among vicious joys, to 
the possession of which it looks forward, cannot 
with good reason compliment itself upon its 
spotlessness, should accident, or even should 
compunction intervene, to prevent the actual 
gratification of its malignant wishes, or it& 
irregular appetites. 

Once more : thoughts, innocent in themselves, 
become censurable when cherished at improper 
times or seasons. Thus it may be extremely 
laudable to direct reflection, when no more im- 
portant interest urges, to the concerns of busi- 
ness, the arrangement of our household, the 
©rnces of civility, or the ties of friendship. 
But if such topics of meditation intrude them- 
selves, and are welcomed, in the temple of re* 
ligion, or during any sacred exercise; if, while 
our whole souls should be engrossed by the one 
thing needful, we are careful and troubled about 
domestic occupations; if, when we are sup- 
posed to be purchasing the pearl of great price, 
we are in fancy buying and selling earthly mer- 
chandise; if, in the hour when we are admitted 
to high converse with our God, we are in some 
distant land, conversing with an absent rela- 
tive, then have we truly desecrated the house: 
of prayer, and converted it into a market-place 
©f worldlings. 



aN THE EIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 133 

I am aware that all these various trains of 
reflection here recounted, will rush unbidden 
into the best-regulated mind. I am aware how 
weak is human nature, though the spirit, the 
inclination, be ever so willing. Whatever is 
thus involuntary, I trust in the goodness of God, 
and I think I may with safety venture to assure 
you, will not be charged to your final account 
Evil, says our great poet, in a bold expression, 
though somewhat too daring when applied in 
the same sense to the Divinity as to his crea* 
£ures — 

Evil into the heart of God or man 

May come and go, so unapprov'd 3 and leave 

No spot or blame behind. 

The sum of our duty, in a single word, with 
"respect to all such unholy inmates of the breast, 
is not to invite,--and if they have entered, self- 
invited, not to harbour them. 

It is nevertheless incumbent on us to be ex- 
tremely well assured, that the thoughts which 
we presume will be blotted from our offences; 
are actually, and in all respects, involuntary : — - 
and this caution I would most earnestly press, 
my friends, on your attention, since here, more 
perhaps than under any other circumstances, 
the mind is apt to practise much self-delusion. 
Jf our ordinary conduct flow on in a current 
k 3 



134 



SERMON VII. 



that is favourable to evil thoughts — if they find 
entrance, through our culpable neglect of those 
precautions which religion and reason prescribe 
— in this case, though wholly unsolicited at the 
time, though unapproved, and though even re- 
jected on their entrance, such thoughts are by 
no means to be classed amongst those, in which 
the will has no concern or power whatsoever, 
or to be excused as altogether unavoidable. 
When the thief, however uninvited and however 
resisted, has entered, while we slumbered, into 
our house ; to say we were without suspicion or 
fear, affords but a feeble apology for our negli- 
gence in having failed to secure our door with 
a bolt. Evil habits are incentives to evil medi- 
tations; and all who indulge in them are ac- 
countable for their natural consequences, how- 
ever far it may have been from their intention 
or wish, to involve themselves in these conse- 
quences. 

Thus then, put in possession of a list of cri^ 
minal thoughts, from which the mind is inte- 
rested in keeping itself free, we only now re- 
quire a few plain directions calculated to assist 
us in that pious exercise. 

I. One expedient which, I think, will very 
greatly contribute to the preservation of inter- 
nal purity, is the habit of taking frequent cog- 
nizance of our vthoughts ; of arresting these 



ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OF THOUGHT. 135 



noiseless travellers in their course, and ques- 
tioning them as to their ultimate destination. 
Often let us turn our observation inwards, that 
we may mark what is there silently passing; 
what conceptions are contemplated by us with 
fondness ; what schemes are in rehearsal for the 
great theatre of action. .Lotus ask ourselves, 
whether the thought on which we may happen 
to be brooding be not one suggested by our 
spiritual adversary, with a view to our eternal 
ruin. If it be further indulged, to what will it 
lead? Is it dishonourable to God?— is it sully- 
ing to purity ? — is it unworthy of our dignity, 
or injurious to our hopes, as candidates for im- 
mortal life? Has it a tendency to produce, in 
any measure, detriment to our neighbour ? Is 
it such as we should be ashamed of, if it were 
exposed to public view? And if, in replying 
to such interrogatories, we stand self- convicted, 
shall we not hasten to separate ourselves from so 
dangerous an inmate? By thus sitting fre- 
quently in judgment over our own minds, we 
shall be enabled to guard the avenues of tempt- 
ation — to detect, and to quell, in their earliest 
appearance, the rebellious movements of irre** 
gular reflection. 

2. To avoid whatever conduces to the taint- 
ing of the thoughts, may be recommended as 
m additional measure of prudence. Here wq 

k 4 



136 



SERMON VI 1. 



may resign ourselves with safety to the di- 
rection of that sage and unerring guide, expe- 
rience. Almost all persons know, from recol- 
lection of the past, what conduct it will now 
be their wisdom to adopt, with a view to their 
internal purity in time to come. Attention to ' 
this hint is so much the more necessary, as, in- 
dependently of it, on the present head, no 
comprehensive general direction for the regula- 
tion of the thoughts can be prescribed, that shall 
be suitable to all the varieties of human cha- 
racter and disposition. There are amusements 
which may tarnish the purity of one mind, and 
soften the constitutional asperity of another. 
Evil thoughts may take possession of one breast 
in the deepest seclusion of solitude, and of 
another in the haunts of mirthful society. Let 
every one cultivate an acquaintance with his 
own character, that he may avoid such scenes, 
studies, recreations, and associates, as he finds 
or suspects that he cannot attach himself to, 
without opening a door to the entrance of evil 
imaginations, or of loose affections, into his 
breast. Some circumstances, indeed, are of a 
less doubtful cast, and may be condemned and 
prohibited as universally dangerous. A mind 
depraved, for example, by inactive, by con- 
tentious, or by sensual habits of living, will 
necessarily be a storehouse of imaginations that 
&re evil continually *. As the thoughts affect 

* jGen. yi. 5, 



ON THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT -OF THOUGHT. 137 

the conduct, the conduct in such a case, it has 
above been shown, can hardly fail to impart a 
colour to the thoughts. External impropriety 
of speech, of attire, of behaviour, we may rest 
assured, is incompatible with inward spotless- 
ness. If it proceed not from mental depravity 
as a cause, it will infallibly produce that dis- 
position as its consequence. 

3. While cur duty demands thai we diligently 
seek to avoid all such tendencies to improper 
trains of thinking, with equal sedulousness is 
it proper for us to court whatever encourages 
and fosters innocent and virtuous musings. 

Employment, contentment, benevolence, 
peacefulness ; — a selection of harmless amuse- 
ments and upright associates, constitute, if I 
^nay so speak, a company of good spirits, which 
keep watch around the integrity and purity of 
the heart. Since, whatever be the objects of 
our ordinary search, on these will our thoughts 
be the most prone to dwell; — or, in the lan- 
guage of Scripture, since wherever the treasure 
is, there naturally will the heart be also*, it must 
be of the utmost consequence to the regulation 
of the thoughts that we study to lay up for 
ourselves treasures in heaven — that we establish 
in our minds a determined and an habitual pre- 
election for things above. Learning to asso- 
* Matt. vi. 21, 



138 SERMON VII. 

ciate with our idea of sin, whatever is odious, 
mean, ungrateful, and dangerous, and to regard 
the low pleasures and toils of the present life 
as unworthy the dignity and destination of im- 
mortal beings, our souls will but rarely recur 
to subjects which we shall have thus previously 
painted and held up to the eye of our minds in 
their native colours of deformity or degrada- 
tion. When a concern for the soul, a love of 
obedience, and a fervent zeal for the divine 
glory, have been fixed as ruling passions, as 
paramount principles, in the breast, our musings 
will as naturally, because with as much fond- 
ness, find the way to whatsoever things are 
true, honesty just, loxely, and of good import *, 
as those of the worldly-minded will wander to 
the honours of ambition, the pleasures of sen- 
suality, or the hoards of avarice. 

4. The grand and important secret, however, 
for attaining a right control over the thoughts, 
and that without attention to which all other 
-measures are nugatory, is intercourse with God. 

To him it is supremely necessary that we 
should learn to look up, as to the great and 
continually- present Inspector of the thoughts. 
He is called by David, in his dying admonition 
to Solomon, the Lord who searcheth all hearts, 
and under st andeth all the imaginations of th$ 

* Phil. iv. 8/ 



PN THE RIGHT GOVERNMENT OP THOUGHT. 13$ v 

thoughts*. And the Apostle to the Hebrews 
writes, The word of God is quick, a discerner of 
the thoughts and intents of the heart ; — all things 
are naked and open unto the eye of Him with whom 
we have to do-\~. Thus He with whom we have to 
do spieth the germ of evil, before it is evolved 
into actual offence ; and traces the whole rise 
and progress of its growth, from a thought to 
a desire, a desire to a stronger inclination, an 
inclination to a resolve ripe for mischief. It 
is right also to remember, that ail which lie- 
thus seeth, he will most assuredly call into the 
strictest judgment. This purpose of God to 
bring every secret device, and every imagina- 
tion, before his tribunal of righteousness, was 
fully declared on the earliest appearance on 
earth, of Him whom he hath constituted the 
judge. This child is set for the fall and rising 
again of many in Israel, that the thoughts of 
piany hearts may be revealed t. 

These notions concerning the Almighty, and 
the Son whom he hath sent, seem well adapted, 
if rendered familiar in the breast, not only to 
preserve it from the intrusion of evil concep- 
tions, but to expel them, if, through human 
infirmity, they have found entrance : — casting 
down imaginations, and bringing into captivity 
every thought §. 

* 1 Chrorv. xxviii. Q, -f Heb. iv. 12. 

| Luke, ii. 35, § 2 Cor, x. # : , 



140 



SERMON VI L 



Still further benefit will accrue to the Chris- 
tian, from accustoming himself to consider the 
heart as the residence of God. If any man de- 
file the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; — 
for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are * 
—for the Spirit of God dwelleth in you # . If the 
august Spirit of God hath most graciously 
vouchsafed to offer himself as the inhabitant of 
our breasts, awe, gratitude, interest, must all 
conspire in prompting us to prepare for him a 
clean and a garnished house. It cannot be pre- 
sumed that he will deign to make his continu- 
ing abode amidst impurity, pride, malice, or 
covetousness : or even if it could, shall not 
some marks of reverence be deemed due to the 
most dignified of all superiors ? This, I think, 
is of itself a consideration sufficiently powerful 
to incite us to make all things ready within, for 
the reception of so honourable a guest. 

Above all, let us avail ourselves of the high 
and glorious privilege to which God hath ad- 
' mitted us-^-that of approaching him in prayer. 
By this exercise we refine and purify our nature; 
exalt it above the attractions of sense, and the 
allurements of life ; we establish a correspond- 
ence with the spiritual world, and rise to the 
throne of excellence and the fountain of light. 
In such ascents we imbibe the spirit of the, 
* 1 Cor, m i& Wa 



OS THE RIGHT GOVERN MENT OF THOUGHT. 141 

highest heavens. The thoughts are sublimated. 
We become holy as our Father is holy. 

The chief benefit, however, to be expected 
from devotion, is that energetic succour from 
above which it will procure, to second, or to 
render efficacious, our humble endeavours for 
establishing our hearts in innocence. Let us be- 
seech our heavenly Father to fortify our breasts 
with this highly needful and valuable affusion, 
to enter into our souls, and to visit his temple ; 
—to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the 
inspiration of his holy Spirit, that we % may 
perfectly love him, and worthily magnify hi* 
mighty name; adoring him by inward purity, 
as well as byinoffensiveness of conduct, through 
Jesus Christ our Lord, and our Redeemer,— 
Amen, 



142 



SERMON VIII. 

THE FALL OF THE LEAF : A SERMON FOR 
THE BEGINNING OF WINTER. 



ISAIAH, CHAP, LX1V. PART OF VERSE 6. 

We all do fade as a leaf. 

It is an art peculiar to the religious and reflect- 
ing mind, to ennoble, by its touch, the most 
common objects and trivial occurrences and 
while these, to the vulgar and the worldly, fur- 
nish only occasions of idle pleasure, or of 
stupid admiration, to convert them into lessons 
of improvement, and to elevate them into 
aneans of grace. 

When, at the present declining season of the * 
year, we observe the striking changes produced 
in the vegetable kingdom ; when the dispersed 
and withered leaves of autumn strew almost 
every step of our way, the mournful reflection 
suggested to the holy Prophet must deeply affect? 
the breasts of the serious, though it can hardly 
fail, we may reasonably presume, to make some 
impression, even on the more unthinking : Wt 
all do fade as a leaf. 



THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 



145 



Sad indeed, but useful, are the meditations 
arising from a view of this comparison; solemn, 
but important, the lecture which it delivers. 
Let us prepare our minds for a short attention 
to it. If, from so trifling an incident as the 
scattering of the foliage, we can extract any 
sentiments likely to prove serviceable to our 
spirits, we may indeed be, said to possess that 
disposition which discovers a tongue in every 
leaf, a moral in every object of creation, or, 
to employ a far more awful and impressive lan- 
guage, which hears the voice of the Lord God. 
walking amongst the trees in the great garden 
of nature # . 

I shall, with due simplicity, consider the 
few words which are to constitute the present 
theme of discourse, as applicable to our religion, 
to our prosperity^ and to our lives. 

1. And first, it may, with too much truth, be 
affirmed, that the RELIGION of many does fade 
away as a leaf. This point of the comparison will, 
no doubt, appear to you to be established on a 
remote and fanciful allusion : but I have thought 
proper to place it in the beginning of the com- 
ment, as it seems, from the context, to have 
been the original idea which occupied the mind 
of the Prophet himself. Attend to his own 
* Genesis, iii. S. 



144 sermon viir. 

words i — fVe all do fade as : a leaf, and our ini- 
quities, like the wind, have taken us away : and 
there is none that calleth upon thy name, that 
stirreth himself to take hold of thee. On high fes- 
tivals, and at particular seasons, we entertain 
and profess a warm love towards God, a fer- 
vent and an honourable zeal for his law ; and 
we then form earnest resolutions of labouring, 
with unshaken perseverance, and with strict 
devotion, in the Christian life. To such pur- 
poses we remain firm for a brief season; and 
may at that time be compared to the full-grown 
and goodly cedar, whose boughs are spread over 
Lebanon, and whose top aspires to heaven. 
This happy condition, however, is of no long 
continuance. Our returning iniquities, to use 
the words of the Prophet, take us, like the wind, 
away from it, and we all do fade as a leaf Our 
better resolutions wax feeble, and drop away. 
The chill winter of our devotion soon approaches : 
and our coldness and falling away from God, 
and from our better purposes, is first and chiefly 
marked by a neglect of prayer. There is none, 
adds Isaiah, that calleth upon thy name : none so 
earnestly concerned for the well-being of his im- 
mortal soul, as to perceive and to recognize the 
necessity of his imploring for pardon and grace. 
Or, if supplication be performed, it is offered 
with indifference: no one stirreth himself to 



THE tfALL OF THE LEAF. 145 

make application to God, by nndoubting faith, en- 
tire repentance, fervent devotion, and unwearied 
perseverance. Our pious affections, in a word, 
are gradually cooled by intercourse with a 
selfish and sensual world, till too often they at 
length become altogether lifeless, as the dry 
and withered leaves of the departing year. 

2. With equally little play of the imagina- 
tion, may it next be observed, as a still more 
general truth, that our prosperity doth fade as 
a leaf, One day the son of man finds himself 
high in health, and fortunate in his worldly 
condition ; numbering about his table a flou- 
rishing family ; surrounded by attached, and, 
as he imagines, by unfailing friends. He per- 
ceives, with complacency, that he has ris'en, 
like the gradual springing up of a tree, by slow 
advances, and after much endurance, to some: 
little eminence of terrestrial felicity. Smiling 
and satisfied, he looks around him upon his 
state, and fancies it to be established beyond 
the reach of accident. He promises to himself 
a secure and permanent enjoyment of it, in 
unbroken ease, and unruffled tranquillity. But, 
alas ! while he is thus rejoicing in his lot, and 
encouraging his soul to take its fill of mirth ; at 
the time when he is flourishing like the green 
bay tree*, and bearing all his honours thick 
* Psalm xxxvii. 35. 
L 



146 SERMON VIII. 

about his head; while his root is spread upon 
the waters, and the dew lies all night upon his 
branch*, — an unexpected storm of adversity 
strips him of his pride; losses deprive him of 
his abundance ; some member of his family de- 
parts from the paths of virtue ; health declines ; 
friends are taken away : — We all do Jade as a 
leaf. 

3. By far the most obvious comparison, 
however, suggested by the words of the text, 
and not less by the present surrounding appear- 
ances of nature, relates to the termination of 
human existence. As of the green leaves on a 
thick tree, says the Wise Man, some fall and some 
grew, so is the generatioyi of flesh and blood ; one 
cometh to an end, and another is bornf. I do 
not here stop to direct attention to those rough 
and untimely vicissitudes of atmosphere, which 
so often disappoint the promises of spring, or 
Jay low the pride of a more advanced season ; 
although a parallel might well be drawn betwixt 
these occurrences, and the accidents which 
arrest youth and manhood in their course; and 
a, warning deduced to youth and manhood, 
on the precariousness of their hopes of life. I 
likewise forbear to take more than a passing- 
notice of that thinly-scattered, yet, itself, 
brown and fading part of the foliage, which 
* Job, xxix. 19. f Eccles. xiv. 18. 



THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 



14f 



survives the first rough breath of winter, while 
all the ground beneath is covered with a waste 
of leaves ; an appearance which might, without 
impropriety, be compared to those persons far 
advanced in years, who, although awfully 
warned by aches, and feebleness, and decrepi- 
tude, the sure intimations and monitors of ap- 
proaching dissolution ; — though perceiving that 
numbers of their contemporaries have been laid 
low, and that they are themselves left alone of 
all their generation, are still found to cling to 
the world, and to its vanities, with all the 
wonted fond tenacity of youth, forgetful of 
the slightness of their tenure in life, and un- 
mindful how unavoidably and how speedily 
they must follow all those who are now laid 
insensible in the dust around them. 

I seek to hasten on to the contemplation of 
that closing scene, in which all are equally 
comprehended and concerned. You observe, 
that in nature the bud and the blossom, the 
early and the later leaf, differ but in the pe- 
riods of their fall. At length, all meet and 
mingle. The cold blast of winter arrives, and 
leaves not one of them behind. How melan- 
choly, and yet how just a picture of that ha- 
voc, of that unsparing, universal desolation, 
which death brings amongst the o-enerations of 

o o o 

men ! Thus is it with the infant, who breathed 

l2 



148 



SERMON VIII. 



but for an hour ; the youth, whose career was 
stopped in its outset ; the full-grown man, who 
perished in the midst of his strength ; and him 
whose fourscore years lingered out to the last 
in labour and sorrow. The storm of general 
dissolution has passed over their heads, and 
scattered them together upon the earth. They 
all do fade as a leaf. Together they strew the 
valley of the shadow of death, alike subdued 
by Him who hath put all th'mgs under his Jeet *. 
Man that is born of a woman is of few days, 
and full of misery ; — he cometh up and is cut 
down like a flower^; — he fleeth as it were a sha- 
dow, and never continueth in one stay. 

Having thus shortly noticed the several ap- 
plications, of which the figurative words of 
the Prophet will admit, I shall now lay before 
you a few plain reflections pointed out to the 
mind by each of these applications respectively, 

1. If our devotion, our good resolutions, our 
moral conduct, be of themselves unstable, as 
they have been described, and as in truth we 
know them to be, what indispensable occasion 
have we for the grace of Heaven, to support our 
languishing piety, to confirm our wavering re- 
solves, and to assist our endangered virtue ! Is 
it not then our interest to pay a diligent 

* 1 Cor. xv. 25. f Burial Service. 



THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 



149 



and punctual attendance on all the ordinances 
which the Almighty has established, as the re- 
gular means of obtaining that needful reinforce- 
ment ? Undoubtedly beings so feeble and so 
frail should ever carefully seek for the support 
of God, not only while, but where, he may be 
found. They should call upon his name by fer- 
vent prayer, at stated and regular periods ; — 
they ought to ponder on his law, to frequent 
his house, to approach his sacred altar. By 
these means, while the self-righteous, who trust 
in their own strength for steadfastness in the 
observance of their vows, become the sport and 
victim of every temptation, and, to adopt the 
language of the holy Psalmist, resemble the chaff 
which the wind drboeth away*— it will be justly 
and happily said of every individual among 
these more humble and earnest worshippers, 
Blessed is the man that trustcth in the Lord, and 
whose hope the Lord is ;—for he shall be as a tree 
planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her 
roots by the river ; — and shall not see when heat 
cometh, but her leaf shall be green ; — and shall 
not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall 
cease from yielding fruit f . 

2. As this figurative description of the effects 
of divine grace may well be applied to other 
advantages, enjoyed by the servants of God, 
* Psalm i. 4. f Jer. xvii. 7, 6. 

L 3 



SERMON VIII. 



it conducts us back to the second point noticed, 
namely, to those sudden and awful reverses of 
worldly prosperity we so often witness, as sug- 
gested by the fall of the leaf. A view of our con- 
dition, this, which surely ought to recommend 
to us an uniform cultivation of piety and true 
holiness. For as godliness, we know, hath the 
promise of the life that now is, may we not 
reasonably expect that they who practise it 
will be more securely protected from the insta- 
bility of fortune, beneath the shadow of Omni- 
potence and divine love, than unrighteous men, 
who boldly abuse the mercies, and provoke the 
displeasure of their Creator. The history of hu- 
man life, indeed, too plainly shows, that, for 
wise reasons, it enters not into the plan of Pro- 
vidence to shelter the righteous, on all occasions, 
from the tempests of the present scene ; yet it 
is f neverth eless, still their wisdom and best 
interest, not, until they die, to remove their in- 
tegrity from them* ; — to the encl that, if disap- 
pointed in their hopes of earthly happiness, 
they may infallibly secure to themselves a far 
richer reversion of joy, in that new Eden, that 
fair Paradise, wiiere no rough storm of adversity 
approaches, and where eternal summer prevails. 
Let the adopted language of the Prophet then 
be their fixed determination : — Although the fig- 
tree should riot blossom, neither should fruit be on 
the vine although the labour of tlte olive fail, 
* Job, xxvih 5. 



THE FALL GF THE LEAF. 



151 



wid the fields yield no meat, yet will they re- 
joice in the Lord, and joy in the God of their 
salvation *. 

Let them wait with patience, and in confident 
hope, for the certain, though delayed, consum- 
mation of their felicity; not repining or distrust- 
ing when their eyes shall behold the temporary 
triumphs of the impenitent : — since, however, 
these may flourish for a season, it shall fare with 
them in the end according to the prophecy of 
Ezekiel : — Behold, being planted, shall it prosper? 
shall it not utterly wither when the east wind 
bloweth on it ? It shall wither in all the learns 
of her spring '\ : — or, in the similar metaphorical 
language of the Apostle James, As the flozver of 
tlie grass they shall pass away ; for the sun is no 
sooner risen with a burning heat, than it wither eth 
the grass, and the grace of the fashion of it pe- 
ri she/ h — With the righteous, saith David, it is 
not so ; his leaf shall not wither ; and look, what- 
soever he doeth, it shall prosper beyond all 
doubt, brethren, it shall ultimately prosper, 
either in the present or in a better existence. 

% Of that better existence, as strong an as- 
surance as any presented to the mind by natural 
Religion, is afforded in the reflections arising 

* Habbak. iii. 17. f Ezek. xvii. 9. 

% James, i. 11. § Psalm i. 3, 

l4 



152 



SERMON VIII. 



out of the last branch of the subject, in which 
the fading glories of the year were regarded in 
their resemblance to the close of human life.— 
For as the sear and withered foliage of autumn 
exhibits to us a striking similitude of mortality; 
as the lifeless vegetation of winter represents 
in a forcible manner the house appointed for all 
living ; so the reappearance of the foliage, and 
the returning life of vegetation, in the cheerful 
and opening season of the year, may be con- 
templated as holding forth to the departing 
spirit, the prospect and earnest of its awakening 
to a better existence. 

For the gloomy reign of this melancholy 
period does not endure for ever : — pass over our 
heads but a few short months, and (to resume 
the language of the sacred writings) Lo! the 
winter shall be passed, and the rains over and 
gone: — -the flowers shall again appear on the earth ; 
the time of the singing birds shall be come, and the 
"vines, with the tender herbs, shall give a good smell*. 

Yes ! pass over us but a few short months, and 
the storms will be called away to their prisons, 
while warmer winds shall wake the spring:— 
the snows of winter will melt before the sun, 
and the rivers again How ioftly to the ocean. — 
Then shall the earth bring forth her increase, 
and the young and bounding flocks shall rejoice' 
* Cantic. ii. 11. 



THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 



153 



upon her hills : — the naked branches will put 
forth their buds, and every green and tender 
herb of the field will once more fill the air wijth 
its fragrance. 

Emblems of a resurrection !— Happy intima- 
tions, given by the God of nature prior to reve- 
lation; — and since revelation has appeared, sub- 
sidiary to it, — that the sleep of death is not 
eternal. For shall no light and joy of spring, 
may we not w T ith confidence ask the unbeliever, 
visit, in like manner, the intellectual world? — 
If there be hope of a tree when it is cut down, 
that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch 
thereof will not fail % shall man lie down to rise 
no more, to cease from the fair existence which 
he has enjoyed for so little a while, and to be 
blotted from this universe, of which he has seen 
so small a part? — If a plant, without reason, 
without feeling, without belief in a God, with- 
out hope or knowledge of futurity — if this 
become lifeless and yet live again, shall he who 
is the noblest work of creation, formed after 
the image of his Almighty Sovereign, be 
crushed with all his hopes, and feelings, and 
energies, and living faculties, and capacities of 
interminable improvement, into a narrow cell, 
from which he must never again come forth? 



* Job,, xiv. 7» 



154 



SERMON VIII. 



Peace, babbling Infidel! Thou fool!— the 
grain which thou sowest is not quickened, except it 
die * ; — wherefore, then, should it seem zvith thee 
a thing incredible, that God should raise the dead^? 
That the recovered life of vegetation, ' the 
freshening meadow, and the bursting wood/ af- 
ford to man the promise of an existence be- 
yond the grave, is indeed a conclusion intimated 
by the religion of nature. Something, how- 
ever, it must be owned, was still wanting, to 
render the fact incontrovertibly certain : — for 
although the general aspect of the vegetable 
tribes, which seem to die with the parting, and 
to revive with the rising year, might fully 
justify the inference in any reasonable mind, 
the captious or doubtful might, perhaps, ob- 
ject, in alluding to the express w r ords of our 
text, that those identical leaves which have 
fallen and perished, do not themselves resume 
their freshness, but that it is another generation 
which flourishes on their branches. 

This defect of proof has been supplied by the 
word of God, and the dim lamp of surmise has 
given place to the dayspring of assurance from 
above. — Go then, O thou of little faith, and 
first behold the flow T er which springs over the 
sepulchre, appearing to say, even to unenlight- 
ened reason, O Death, where is thy victory f— 
* i Cor. xv. 35. \ Acts, xxvi. 8. 



THE FALL OF THE LEAF. 



155 



From the book of nature repair to the book of 
revelation ;— from plausible conjecture, to in- 
fallible certainty. There thou wilt discover 
thine own resurrection established upon the 
fact of the resurrection of thy Lord : — -still, 
however, in metaphorical allusion so these same 
remarkable appearances of nature — Christ the 
Jirst fruits ; — and afterwards, they that are 
Christ 9 s, at his coming*. 

Thus confidently assured of a future state of ex- 
istence, see that thou be ever able to look forward 
to the transition with a well-grounded expecta- 
tion of its conducting to happiness. Placing 
thy firm reliance on the Saviour who hath led 
the way to it, be faithful unto death, and be 
not weary in well-doing; — that thy immortal 
spirit, like a tree that has been removed from a 
bleak to a genial climate, may be taken from 
this lower world of clouds and tempests, to 
enjoy, through endless ages, a kinder sky, and 
fo spread out to infinite perfection. 

* 1 Cor. xir. 23. 



156 



SERMON IX. 

GRADATIONS IN FUTURE HAPPINESS OB 
MISERY. 



REVELATIONS, CHAP. XX. PART OF VERSE 12. 

And the dead were judged out of those things 
which were written in the books, according to 
their works. 

That we ought to regard our good actions, our 
SEst and purest actions, as affording no ground 
for a claim to eternal happiness ;• and that the 
most righteous are saved, not by their own 
righteousness, but solely through the merits of 
the ever-blessed Redeemer, is the grand and 
leading principle of revealed religion. From 
this truth, however^ it has been hastily in- 
ferred, that since the best morality . is an inade- 
quate price of salvation, all holiness is alike 
insignificant in the eye of Heaven ;— that peni- 
tence, after a protracted course of iniquity, is 
no less acceptable than regular obedience ;— and 
that whatever may have been the difference in 
mental depravity, in the heinousness or the con- 
tinuance of transgressions, betwixt one class 
of sinful beings and another, all who believe 
and return unto God shall, in the end, be 



ON* FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. 157 



equally blessed, while all obstinate unbelievers 
shall together be confounded in one indis* 
criminating measure and swoop of punish* 
ment. 

In opposition to this opinion, I shall at this 
time lay before you sucli arguments, derived 
from reason and revelation, as incline me to be- 
lieve, though with suitable diffidence, that 
while we certainly obtain the free gift of eter- 
nal life, only through the sufficiency of our 
Saviour Christ, there are nevertheless grada- 
tions in our future allotment, thus purchased as 
it is ; and that these will be strictly propor- 
tioned to our present improvement of those 
means of grace which are on earth imparted 
to us. 

L Reason, that witness of himself which 
God hath given unto man — that fainter light 
-—that lesser revelation, would calculate upon 
a retribution commensurate in its degrees with . 
moral worth or turpitude, as appearing the 
most consistent with the divine attribute of 
justice. There exists a natural sense of equity 
in the mind, which dictates, that recompense in 
futurity will be apportioned, according to our 
knowledge or ignorance of our duty, to our 
exemption from temptations, or the magnitude 
of our dangers ;~that flagrant offences ought 
3 



SEllMOK IX . 

to be more severely punished than smaller 
errors ; great excellencies more honoured than 
inferior good qualities ; and, in short, that the 
number of good or bad deeds, as well as their 
nature, will be estimated in our great account. 
The mind revolts at the supposition that good 
men, like Abel, and Noah, and Enoch, and 
Joseph, although, by reason of their frailties, 
unquestionably incapable of working out their 
own salvation, will enjoy no more of the divine 
favour than penitents who renounce their evil 
ways, after having resigned themselves, for a 
long course of years, to presumptuous and ha- 
bitual guilt. Even men inflict not the same 
measures of punishment on the great and the 
petty offender; — they are often observed to 
mitigate their anger, in consideration of a first 
or unpremeditated trespass ; nor do they equally 
remunerate two servants, of whom one has 
proved faithful in few, and the other in many 
things. Sometimes, it is true, we observe hu- 
man laws inflicting equal punishments on two 
individuals, who have perpetrated the same 
offence, though with different degrees of in- 
ward depravity ; but as this would not happen 
could men look into the breast, we may rea- 
sonably conclude, that, in such circumstances, 
a distinction will doubtless be observed by Him 
unto whom all hearts are open. 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. 15$ 

And these notions respecting the divine ad- 
ministration appear to be sanctioned by striking 
facts. In the economy of the present world, it 
is most clearly perceived to be a general law of 
the Divine Providence, that different degrees 
of iniquity shall produce, as their natural con- 
sequences, nearly proportionate measures of 
suffering-. Does not the dissipated character, 
even after his reformation, experience the result 
of the waste he has made, in fortune, in 
health, in reputation, or in time? Can re* 
pentance the most sincere recall his squan- 
dered possessions, his broken constitution, his 
wounded character, or his mispent years ? Does 
not painful regret arise to disturb the peace, 
which he trusts and believes he has made with 
God? Is he not often deeply stung by self- 
reproach on account of the past, though he feels 
humbly assured that, through Christ, it is for- 
given? And in all these respects, does not the 
intenseness of his sufferings bear some relation 
to the extent of his past circuit in iniquity? — ?- 
Yet, as this adjustment of woe to guilt, though 
sufficiently general to be distinctly perceived, 
is not quite universal, or nicely measured in the 
present life ; we can hardly, I presume, avoid con- 
sidering it as the intimation or commencement 
of an all-equitable dispensation, to be unfolded 
more thoroughly in a subsequent state of 
feeing* - 



SERMON IX. 



2. To these surmises of reason, let us now, 
in the second place, annex the surer informa- 
tion of Scripture. By a Levitical law, men- 
tioned in the book of Deuteronomy * it is 
enjoined, that, If the wicked man be worthy to 
be beaten, the judge shall cause him to be beaten 
according to his fault, by a certain number, 
namely, of stripes : — in allusion to which 
passage, St. Luke | represents our Saviour as 
declaring, in anticipation of the general judg- 
ment, that, the servant which knew his Lord's 
Zvill, and prepared not himself, neither did accord- 
ing to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes ; 
* — and thai he who knew not, and did commit things 
worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes* 
Here we find that the same amount of trans- 
gression will be differently visited on two indi- 
viduals, such as an Heathen and a Christian, of 
whom the one has enjoyed ample, and the other 
slender opportunities of knowledge. Now, if 
in two cases the retribution will vary, while 
the trespasses are in themselves the same, it 
seems impossible not to infer a similar differ- 
ence in recompense, when, the same means or 
measures of grace being dispensed, the sum of 
actual trespasses shall be found unequal. 

Again, when our Lord declared to the cities 
of Galilee, It shall be more tolerable for Tyix 
♦■Chap. xxv. 2. f cha P« 4 7> 48 * 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. J£>1 



and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you; 
for if the works xvhich ye witness had been done in 
them, they would a great while ago have re- 
pented: — it is obvious, that in this very phrase 
more tolerable, the same diversity of future 
allotment is implied; — the same balance of dis- 
obedience and suffering; 

These passages, Fmu,st stop to remark by the 
way, furnish us with one highly important 
lesson :-^-for if evil doers involve themselves in 
greater condemnation, as the celestial light 
vouchsafed to them is more clear, how dreadful 
must be the consequences of our impenitence^ 
who are familiar with the full import and tidings 
of the Gospel ; — unto whom its heralds and 
interpreters, the ministers of God are sent^ 
among whom the word of truth is regularly 
preached, and whom the Scriptures have taught 
from our childhood to this day, the terms df 
salvation, and the issue of obduracy ! 

But to return : — My brethren^ writes the 
Apostle James, be not many masters, knowing 
that ye shall receive the greater condemnation; 
for in many things we offend all # * This text like- 
wise admits of being elucidated by another, 
inculcating the same advice ; Judge not, and ye 
shall not be judged : for with what judgment ye 
* James, iii. 1* 



SERMON IX. 



judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure 
ye mete, it shall be measured to you again*. Both 
passages, I conceive, may be thus paraphrased : 
If to our other offences, whether of infirmity or 
presumption, we add an immoderate and un- 
christian severity towards the faults we witness, 
there is a tribunal where we too shall receive 
stricter judgment and heavier condemnation, 
than those will experience who have drawn 
over their trespasses the mantle of candour and 
charity towards their offending brethren. 

Various other texts and portions of Scrip- 
ture, illustrating the same doctrine, either di- 
rectly or by implication, must, doubtless, rush 
into the minds of such persons as are at all 
conversant in the sacred volume. They will 
recollect, that to whomsoever much is given, 
much will be, proportionally, required ^ : — that he 
who soweth sparingly, shall reap also sparingly ; 
and that he who soweth plentifully, shall reap 
plentifully %:— that whosoever shall violate the 
least of 'the divine commandments, the same shall be 
called the least in the kingdom of heaven. Terms 
of comparison employed in describing our re- 
compense, can only refer to its gradations. 

Nor would it be pardonable here to overlook, 
or to omit mentioning, the well-known parable 

* Matt. vii. I, 2. + Luke, xtl. 48. % 2 Cor. ix. 6. 

4 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. l6S 



of the distribution of talents; in which one 
servant is represented as receiving five cities, 
and another two : — but both in admeasurement 
to their respective fidelity. 

There are, moreover, various orders of spiritual 
intelligences, cherubim and seraphim, angels and 
archangels, rising one above the sphere and con- 
dition of another; — from whence may be in- 
ferred an analogous ascending scale in our own 
glorified condition. Agreeably to this suppo- 
sition, our Lord declared, that in his Father s 
house are ma?iy mansions # . We read also of the 
third heavens f , and of some who stand (compa- 
ratively) without faulty before the throne of God J. 
It was promised to the Apostles (a manifest 
token of pre-eminence), that they should sit on 
twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of 
Israel and when, on a different occasion, 
they inquired who should be the greatest in their 
Master's kingdom, our Saviour acquainted them |[, 
(not that no one should be greater than another, 
but) that he should excel in greatness who should 
prove the most faithful in obediefice. — John, we 
know, was distinguished as the disciple whom 
Jesus particularly loved ^p: — to what then but to 
some superiority in holiness can his enjoyment 
of an extraordinary portion of the divine favour 

* John, iv. 2, f 2 Cor. xii. 2. i Rev. xiv. 5. 
% Luke,xxii. 30. Matt, xviii. 1. % John, xlii. 23, 

M % 



I 

164 SERMON IX. 

be attributed ? — and may not recompense in this, 
as in every other instance, be fairly supposed 
to be commensurate with favour? To all these 
proofs, the passage from which our text is ex- 
tracted, may here, with propriety, be sub- 
joined : And I saw the dead, small and great, 
stand before God; — and the books were opened,, 
and another booh was opened, which is the book of 
life ; and the dead were judged out of those things 
which were written in the books, according to their 
works. For surely, if the allotment of retribu- 
tion is to be measured according to the works 
of men, its quantities must be as unequal in 
different cases, as the shades of vice and virtue, 
in different characters, are diversified, 

Having thus endeavoured to establish the 
doctrine of distinctions in eternal reward and 
punishment, on the basis of reason and Scrip- 
ture, it only now remains for me to make a 
practical application of it. 

I must premise, however, that an assent to 
this article of belief is beset with several dan- 
gers, against which it is of the utmost moment 
that a serious caution should be offered. Let 
me beseech you then to beware, in admitting 
this delicate doctrine, of considering works as in 
themselves worth any thing, — as in the smallest 
degree establishing a right to remuneration in 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. \65 



the sight of a pure God. There is no man 
who, honestly communing with his own con- 
science, will not own, as the result of the con- 
ference, that if God were to deal strictly with 
him according to his works, independently of 
any mediatorial interposition, all his thoughts 
of greater or inferior degrees of happiness 
would be lost in one haunting, terrifying appre- 
hension — the dread of certain, and well-merited 
punishment. He would feel that it is of the ten- 
der compassion of God that he is not consumed* ; 
and prostrating himself before the throne of 
the Omnipotent Judge, he would lift up his 
hands, and only implore for mercy. Enter not 
into judgment with thy servant, he would cry, 
for in thy sight shall no man living be justified^. 
To any then who shall entertain the presump- 
tuous conception, — who shall admit the palpable 
and deplorable error — that they are running, if 
I may so speak, a debtor and creditor account 
with their Maker; and that the whole or any 
portion of their eternal happiness is a possession 
of their own achievement, I would earnestly 
recommend a constant and deep consider- 
ation of the two following passages of Scrip- 
ture : — What hast thou that thou didst not 
receive %? and, After ye have done all, say, We are 
unprofitable servants §. Admit, however, that our 

* Lament. Hi. 22. f Psalm cxliii. 2. 

% 1 Cor. iv. § Luke, xvii. 10. 

M 3 



166 SERMON IX. 

imperfect services are received through Christ 
our Mediator, — and it will not then seem in- 
consistent with these sentiments to suppose 
that God will vouchsafe a greater or smaller 
measure of his favour,— freely given though it 
be to all, — as, obedient to the impulses of his 
sacred Spirit, we have, more or less, risen supe- 
rior to our inborn corruption, and approximated 
to his nature in holiness. 

Another danger generated by this doctrine is 
that of our resting satisfied with inferior de- 
grees of obedience. If, as the world is found, 
we perceive or imagine ourselves to excel the 
multitude in the discharge of duty, we are in 
the greatest hazard of saying within our own 
hearts ; " 'T is well : — we are secure of obtain- 
ing some place in Heaven ; — we may with 
safety, therefore, now leave something undone^ 
or not trouble ourselves about higher attain- 
ments : — it were enough only to have escaped 
destruction ;-— it will be abundant happiness to 
be brat a doorkeeper in the celestial temple of 
our Almighty Father; — let us forego, then, the 
excesses of future felicity, and content our- 
selves with inferior remuneration, that we may 
avoid, as much as may be, the painful restraints, 
of self-denial, and fully enjoy the present world 
without altogether forfeiting the next," To 
the case of individuals who may adopt this 
reasonings the Scriptures* as in the preceding 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MrSERY. l6j 

instance, make pointed applications. The most 
righteous, it is said, shall SCARCELY be saved; 
— where then shall the deliberate sinner appear # f 
— Shall we continue in sin, exclaim.s St. Paul, 
that grace may abound? God forbid |. — I think 
not, writes the same Apostle, that I have already 
attained X- — I forget what is behind; I press on to 
perfection §. But chiefly be it remembered, as 
the most serious truth, that though the Gospel 
of Christ offers happiness to the penitent, no 
portion of that happiness can be expected by 
the presumptuous transgressor, — let him offend 
but even in one point. 

Again ; a mercenary service, in opposition to 
that holiness which results from the love of 
God, is likewise to be apprehended as a per- 
version of the doctrine before us. On this 
head I shall shortly remark, that it is impos- 
sible, on every occasion, to introduce in one 
discourse all the incitements to Christian obe- 
dience. In persuading men, by describing the 
terrors of the Lord, and by representing him 
as a rewarder of them that diligently seek" him, 
I do not deny that the pure and genuine love of 
the Divinity is the noblest and most generous 
motive that can sway the breast of man — the.mo- 
tive ever to be kept uppermost in the thoughts. 

* 1 Pet. iv. 19. f Rom. vi. U 

% Phil. iii. 12, § James, ii. 10. 

u 4 



168 SERMON IX. 

This part of our subject would, however, be 
left incomplete, if we should fail to add, that 
the opposite opinion, which confounds the 
distinctions of reward and punishment, is preg^ 
nant no less with dangers of its own, Might 
it not, if admitted, tend to wear away, in 
some degree, the acute delicacy of conscience 
>vith respect to individual trespasses ? Is there 
no risk of its emboldening the sinner to pro- 
ceed from smaller errors to greater crimes ? to 
imagine that the one will be as easily forgiven as, 
the other -?that one more sin added to the heap, 
and one more to that, can be of little conse- 
quence, since all are to be washed away toge- 
ther in redeeming blood or even to arrive at 
the fatal delusion, that since works, in regard 
to their diversities, are a dust in the scale, a 
nothing in his account— an increased earnestness 
in faith, devotion, and zeal, will compensate 
some relaxation in his moral services ? 

1. Our doctrine appearing to be sufficiently 
guarded by these preliminary remarks, I shall 
now proceed to entreat the young and yet unvi- 
tiated to remain in the house of their heavenly 
Father — -to be uniformly steady to the dictates 
of principle— to resist that specious lure of Satan, 
which decoys them away from the path of rec- 
titude, by persuading them, that, on their return, 
their faith and penitence will fully re-establish 
them in their former condition. Repentance 



ON FUTURE I^AFPINESS OR MISERY* 16$ 

would, indeed, (glorified be the name of God !) 
restore them, through Christ, to the divine fa- 
vour ; — but Jet them be assured that it would not 
restore them to that entire blessedness which 
they enjoyed prior to their goh>g astray. The 
fatted ca]f is slain for the recovered prodigal, who 
was dead, and is alive ; — was lost, and is found* : 
i — his return is welcomed with a robe, a ring, 
the festivity and jubilee of a night still, ne- 
vertheless, he has squandered his portion ; — 
though pardoned and received with joy, he is 
poorer than his elder brother,- — nor shall he 
again divide the inheritance with him who re- 
linquished not his paternal roof, and to whom, 
therefore, belongeth all that his father hath. 

In a word, the mercy of the Father of mer- 
cies consists in receiving his penitents at all : — - 
did he place them on a level with those who, 
excepting the errors, unavoidably incident to 
the most uniformly faithful, have not wandered 
widely from their home, his mercy would seem 
to encourage a deliberate enjoyment of the 
pleasures of sin for a season. Let those then, 
who hitherto have been little, — (little compara- 
tively,)— tainted by actual guilt, still beware of 
contracting its stains : — since, even if their re- 
solutions of future penitence were to be realized 
(resolutions, however, which sudden death, or 
delirious sickness, or inveterate habits, or har- 
* Luke, xy. 



170 SERMON IX. 

dened iniquity, may defeat), they would find, 
if there be truth in what has at this time been 
advanced, that, having lost some opportunities 
which, through grace, they might have im- 
proved, they had forfeited some rewards which 
it was in their power to have obtained. Theirs 
be (as far as human weakness can effect) a pre- 
servation of the inestimable treasure of their 
innocence, an uninterrupted continuance in 
obedience ; and to them will belong the richest 
of patrimonies : even all that their Father hath. 

% I would, in the next place, solemnly en- 
treat the transgressor, every one who has un- 
fortunately been tempted from the right path, 
that he lose no moment in arising and coming 
to his Father — not only because a moment may 
close his probation, but also because each moment 
of delayed amendment is a new abridgment of 
that quantity of happiness, which Christian faith 
and penitence may yetprocure for him; or, — pain- 
ful alternative!— a fearful increase of that eternal 
sorrow which is the wages of obstinate rebel- 
lion. If he has, been heaping up wrath against 
the day of wrath, it is surely full time to think 
of diminishing the heap; or, at least, of 
ceasing to add to it, The gates of Mercy are 
still open : the aids of grace are yet vouch- 
safed. By redoubling his care, by stretching 
the sinews of exertion, in the love and service 
of God, and of his neighbour, he may greatly 



ON FUTURE HA*Bf\ESS OR MISERY. 17 1 

retrieve his past failure ; lie may regain much 
of his lost ground ; he may recover something 
of his forfeited felicity, Perhaps he may tread 
pn the steps of the regular and steady : by a 
very anxious and diligent acceleration in obe* 
dience, it may yet be his, to overtake in the 
way some, whose services, though uniform, are 
less strenuous than those on which he is corrn 
petent to determine and to enter. 

3. Lastly, let us all consider every day of 
life as a means of grace, which, if rightly im- 
proved, advances us a step in the divine favour: 
—if abused, infallibly brings us nearer to ruin, 
pr sinks us deeper in despair. Each year, and 
month, and minute, is of incalculable worth, 
as elevating or depressing the candidate for im- 
mortality. Every individual good action, each 
passion we suppress, each temptation we resist, 
each counsel we offer, each sorrow we alleviate, 
every the slightest expression of Christian 
good- will, every mite bestowed from a pure 
motive, has a certain determination upon futu- 
rity. Not a cup of cold water shall lose its 
particular reward *, nor an idle word be omitted 
in our final accounif . Not the most trivial ef- 
fort of self-denial, not the slightest indiscretion, 
shall fail to raise or to lower the scale of our 
everlasting condition. A faithful witness will 
record the whole, with an unerring pen, in the 
* Matt. x. 42, f Matt. xii. 3& 



17-2 SERMON IX. 

books which shall be opened before the Lord ; 
and we shall be judged out of the things which 
are written in the books— judged according to 
our works. 

Can we have a more cogent inducement to 
being perpetually vigilant; to fleeing from lesser 
as well as greater evils ; to cultivating all the 
minuter graces, as well as the more essential 
virtues of the Christian life; — in one word, to 
being what we ought to be, by the divine help, 
at all times, and in all situations ; in youth as 
in age ; in health as in sickness ; in safety as in 
danger ; in the world as in the house of God? 
By thus receding from the way of destruction, 
and advancing in the humble imitation of the 
ever-blessed Pattern, we doubt not that some 
disciples have rendered their remuneration, not 
only to be confidently expected, but exceed- 
ingly great ; their election not only sure, but 
glorious; their labour not merely not in vain in 
the Lord, but productive of a rich and abun- 
dant harvest. By progressive gradations in 
Christian obedience, they have risen to a more 
intimate enjoyment of that blessedness, with 
which the Deity is supremely and perfectly en- 
compassed, because he is perfectly good, 

Such aspiring views as these, however, suit 
not, perhaps, the circumstances of the gene- 
rality of Christians* Frail, weak, erring, and 



ON FUTURE HAPPINESS OR MISERY. 173 



far from excellence, we shall make a more be- 
coming improvement of the present subject, by 
considering every one of our better actions as 
instrumental under our Redeemer, in removing 
lis from the lost, rather than in advancing us 
among the happy : as abating, in some degree, 
the divine displeasure, due to our innumerable 
faults : as rendering us, in some small measure, 
less unworthy of the mighty deliverance which 
Christ, our strength, hath wrought for us. 
Happy, richly, undeservedly happy, if, through 
his mediation, our imperfect obedience shall be 
deemed acceptable in the sight of Heaven, i£ 
by surrendering to him our souls, by giving up 
our lives to his service, we can at all warrant 
our hopes of salvation in his blood, and obtain 
any, though it were but the lowest place in, 
his Father's kingdom, 



SERMON X* 

©N THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE 0£ EVi^ 



ISAIAH, CHAP. XLV. VERSE f. 

Ijbrm the light and create darkness: I make 
peace and create evil: I y the Lord, do all these 
things. 

That the world in which we are placed abounds 
with evil, the melancholy report of all ages 
has proclaimed. The complaint has been com- 
mon to every rank and condition of life: — to 
the young, the rich, and the powerful, not less 
than to the aged, the indigent* and the weak. 
Deeply as men have deplored the fact, they 
have been equally perplexed in their endeavours 
to account for it. Could not the Creator have 
prevented this imperfection in his works ? and, 
if he is infinitely good, wherefore did he per- 
mit it to exist? — Might he not* if he pleased, 
have made all men, and all animals, to be happy? 
and as it was easy to his power, would it not 
have been more consistent with his benevo- 
lence, if he had formed the light without a 
succession of darkness, and ordained peace, 
without creating evil ? 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF £VlL. 175 

These questions led many of the wise men of 
old, who were not visited by the light of reve- 
lation, and likewise a particular sect of the 
early Christians*, to adopt the hypothesis of 
two first principles of things, or two eternal 
beings, a good and an evil power, who, as they 
supposed, were perpetually contending with and 
counteracting each other. They thought that 
they did honour to the object of worship, by 
ascribing to a different and an adverse agent s 
whatever they deemed irreconcilable to his be- 
nevolence, and a blot upon his perfection. It 
did not occur to them, that, by this conjecture, 
they actually curtailed his attributes .-—that in 
seeking to exalt his goodness, they were deny- 
ing his sovereign omnipotence. In later times, 
and even in our own days, a similar view of 
the prevalence of evil has led some persons to 
disbelieve the existence, others to question the 
providence, of God; and many who cannot 
withhold assent from either, to murmur and 
despond under his dispensations. 

We discover in the text, that the evil which 
is found in the world, exists there by the comr 
mandor permission of the Divinity. I create evil. 

* Vid. Law's edition of King on Evil, p. 93. Lucretius, 
lib. ii. v. 180.— The sect alluded to in the text, I need hardly 
say, was that of the l&lanichaeans. See Bayle's Diet, article 
Manichees. 



m 



I do this, saith the Lord. My object, theri^ 
I shall briefly announce to be an endeavour to* 
vindicate the wisdom and goodness of the 
Almighty in so remarkable an exertion of his 
power; With this view I propose, on the pre- 
sent occasion, to show, 

1st, That the quantity of existing evil is 
not so great as, at first view, it may appear 
to be : 

Sdly, That whatever evil afflicts the human 
race, is all, in one way or other, of their own 
procuring: — and, 

3dly, That by the gracious interference of 
Providence, it tends to a happy issue ; — to an 
issue which, to say the least of it, counterba-* 
lances the previous evil. 

1st. It will greatly clear the way in this dis- 
cussion, if we shall be able, in the outset, to 
satisfy ourselves that the quantity of evil is 
much less than, on a superficial view, might be 
imagined : — that the shades of adversity are not 
so deep as they appear to be, in the eye of a hasty 
observer. — And first, we may remark, that, by 
a wise appointment of Providence, scenes of 
distress are made to strike our minds more 
forcibly, and to awaken a far livelier fellow- 
feeling in our breasts than any species of feli- 
city which we witness : — and for this obvious 
reason—that distress stands in need of that 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 177 



active consolation and relief, which our com- 
passion will naturally prompt, while happiness 
is more independent of sympathy. Add to 
this, that misery, in consequence of the same 
occasion for the participation of social natures 
in its feelings, is much more clamorous, and 
therefore more noticed, than satisfaction. And 
the sum of evil has been still further exagge- 
rated by writers who were aware that the tale 
of woe would find a chord more responsive to it 
in the human heart, than any which vibrates in 
unison with the voice of joy ; as well as by 
many mistaken devotees, who have esteemed a 
gloomy discontent with the present life, as es- 
sential to Christian piety. 

To any calm and unprejudiced observer, 
however, the latent, but multiplied, satisfac- 
tions of mankind, will not fail to discover 
themselves; and he will learn to look up with 
confidence to that all-gracious Being, who, al- 
though he suffers, for wise ends, the existence 
of darkness and evil, creates more of light 
than of darkness, and more of peace than of 
evil. Such an observer will discover, that, in 
the natural world, and with some allusion to 
the literal sense of the text, if the radiance of 
the sun be sometimes withdrawn, it is sent to 
shine forth in other climes;— it leaves behind it 
a calm and soothing twilight, and a season 



S£RMON X. 



suited to repose : while, to light the traveller 
on his journey, or to guide the mariner through 
the deep, the fair host of heaven illuminate 
the firmament, and pour down their beams on 
the darkness of night. He will reflect, that if 
the evil of war be often commissioned from 
above, to scourge the nations of the earth, there 
is on the whole, throughout the globe, an equal 
balance of peace : that, in modern times, Chris* 
tianity has, in many essential respects, miti- 
gated the horrors of warfare; and that a state 
of hostilities, however to be deplored, is not to 
be accounted wholly destitute of benefit, since 
it serves to stimulate an industry which shall 
meet the increased demands of the revenue ; and 
to prevent or check that voluptuousness and 
love of the world, to which peace, it cannot be 
denied, is but too favourable. To nearly all na- 
tural evils, indeed, a compensation may be dis- 
covered. Poverty is exempt from the anxieties 
and the fears of opulence, and is animated by 
hopes to which opulence is a stranger. Solid 
and useful sense is usually found, where a bril- 
liant imagination is wanting ; while an absence 
of this useful quality is as often supplied, by a 
happy unconsciousness of the defect. It is the 
helplessness of men which is the cement of civil 
society ; and their ignorance which unlocks the 
rich and various pleasures of novelty, curiosity^ 
and progressive improvement, 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 179 

With respect to the sum of evil, as generally 
observable, we cannot but acknowledge that 
there is ; on the lowest calculation, as much of 
health and serenity as of sickness and storm ; 
more than seven years of plenty for every 
seven of famine : and when we turn our con- 
templation to the moral world, if it be found to 
exhibit too frequent instances of private ani- 
mosity and contention, it will appear to be the 
theatre of many more civilities, hospitalities, 
compassions, and friendships. To these re- 
marks it deserves to be added, that as the pri- 
vate misfortunes of men occupy but a small 
portion of life, it is seldom that they all arrive 
together ; and that, by advancing in succession^ 
they are the more easily endured. 

No small portion of the distress of which we 
complain is ideal. We fruitlessly harass our 
minds with apprehending calamities, that are, in 
ordinary calculation, by no means likely to 
befall us ; nor less in deploring circumstances 
in our lot, which contain no hardship, but in the 
views of our distempered fancy. Possessed of 
all the necessaries of life, we idly bewail our want 
of its superfluities. We are continually losing 
sight of the good which is in our power; and 
toiling in pursuit of some vain shadow, to 
which we fondly imagine happiness to be at- 
tached. 



180 SERifOtf X. 

We are, further, apt, in contemplating the 
misfortunes of our brethren, to form a false 
estimate of the real evil of their condition, by 
confining our attention to their misfortunes 
solely; while we pay no regard to the various 
alleviations, which often go far towards compen- 
sating or softening them. But if we took into 
our account, as in truth we ought to take, that 
not unfrequent natural insensibility which dis- 
regards the assault of trouble ; — that buoyancy 
of the spirits and fire of hope which surmounts 
it and length of time, which reconciles men 
to their sufferings, — and necessary toil, which 
leaves but little leisure for brooding over them : 
if we reckoned up the soothing consolations of 
friendship, and the thousand tender nameless ser- 
vices performed towards the unfortunate by their 
kindred; — if we considered those medicines, so 
potent in many cases, to administer peace amidst 
the depths of tribulation, I mean the secret 
pleasures of a serene conscience, and, above all, 
. that holy and steadfast principle of faith, which 
implicitly trusts in the providence of God, and 
calmly submits to his severest chastisements-;—, 
if, my brethren, we thus fairly contemplated 
affliction, the face of affairs would brighten up 
to our view, and we should acknowledge that 
the Almighty Governor has left upon his crea- 
tion, a deeper stamp and signature of his bene- 
volence, than of any other of his attributes* 
2 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 181 

It is, indeed, a common remark, and de- 
serving of its due weight, that although 
nothing be more frequent than complaints of 
personal unhappiness, there are few or none 
who would willingly exchange their condition, 
including all its good together with its evil, 
for any other that might be submitted to their 
preference # . Doubtless, then, in every condi- 
tion, there must exist consolations, which escape 
the superficial or the melancholy observer. 

After all, however, it cannot be denied, that 
the world contains much real distress ; to ac- 
count for which, and to reconcile the permis- 
sion of it with the infinite wisdom and goodness 
of the Divine Being, it will now be proper, 

II. In the second place, to direct attention to 
its origin. Now we are distinctly informed in the 
sacred volume, that God doth not afflict willingly \ 
nor grieve the children of men f . When he first 
called the human race into existence, he de- 
signed them to be happy, and he made them so. 
Had our first parents then, and had all their 
posterity, retained their original innocence, 
their happiness likewise would have been cer- 
tainly perpetuated. The world would have stilt 

* Vos hiqc discedite mutatis partibus ; Eja 

Quid statis? Nolunt. 
f Lament, in, 33, * 



182 



SERMON X. 



bloomed as the garden of Eden; and neither 
sickness, nor anxiety, nor sorrow, nor death, 
would ever have found a place in it. But 
£dam, having violated the stipulated condition 
on which Paradise and its felicity were secured 
to him, himself incurred, and entailed on his 
descendants, the punishment which the Al- 
mighty had denounced on disobedience. And 
lest these descendants should complain of any 
injustice, in their being doomed to suffer for 
the offence of their forefather, they all (all at 
least who have lived sufficiently long to be con- 
scious of their sufferings, and to be capable of 
complaining, — all therefore with whom our 
argument is now concerned) have followed his 
footsteps in the ways of sin, and thus mom 
fully justified the decree of Heaven. Here then, 
my friends, we discover the ample source of the 
varied miseries with which the present life 
abounds. By one mans disobedience sin came 
into the world, and misery and death by sin *. 
Death, we are elsewhere informed, is the wages 
of sin : and so are sickness, sorrow, misfortune 
of every kind, Natural evil is the result and 
recompense of moral evil ; and moral evil was 
introduced by man's wilful transgression. Thus 
far, then, with respect to every species of evil, . 
man may be pronounced the author of his own 
tribulation how presumptuous, therefore, to 
* Rom, v. 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 185 

arraign the goodness of God, as if he origi- 
nally willed that his creatures should live to 
.suffer ! 

The evils of our condition are observed to be 
of "two kinds; — such as befall us by the esta* 
blished course of nature, and can be prevented 
by no foresight or exertion on our part, and such 
as we deliberately bring do wn uponour own heads, 
by the abuse of our free will. It is manifest, that 
to both these descriptions of distress, the fore- 
going observations are applicable. Yet, if the 
former, the unavoidable evils of existence 
(which are the only direct punishment of the 
fall), be separated from the others, and con- 
sidered by themselves, they will appear of very 
insignificant amount, when compared with the 
general mass of Surrounding trouble. The loss 
of friends after a long enjoyment of their so- 
ciety ; a few acute diseases, and rarely occur* 
ring accidents ; a subjection to the inclemency 7 
of seasons, and similar occasional inconveni- 
encies, together with removal from life, for the 
most part, in extreme old age ; these, I think, 
would constitute nearly the whole sum -a sum 
which the most impatient would hardly account 
sufficient to embitter the present existence, or 
to invalidate a confidence in the divine benevo- 
lence. They dwindle, indeed, into nothing, 
when we remember that the sin of Adam does 



184 



SERMON X. 



not, of itself, inflict a punishment beyond the 
grave; and that an eternity of unutterable and 
unsullied happiness is opened to all his chil- 
dren. But by far the greater part of the evils 
of which we complain, are such as even under 
the forfeiture incurred by the fall, the race of 
Adam have no occasion to suffer ; — are under no 
necessity of suffering: — such as the Almighty 
appoints, or permits, only as the scourge of 
their own transgressions ; and such as, under 
the ordinary aids of grace, their own prudence 
or principle might easily have shunned. 

Need I refer, for proof of this assertion, to 
all those dire hostilities amongst nations, which, 
from the beginning, have converted the earth 
into a scene of blood, — an Aceldama; have laid 
waste its most fertile provinces, destroyed or 
reduced to misery millions of its inhabitants, 
and filled the eyes of parents and of widows 
with tears? — Need I refer to the countless mul- 
titude of private animosities : to the jealousies 
and strifes in families and neighbourhoods, which 
engender so many reciprocal injuries;— or to 
those baleful effects of personal envy and resent- 
ment, which administer as much pain to him 
who harbours, as to him who is the object of 
such malignant affections ? O ! you who arro- 
gate the name of Christians^ a name designed 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 185 

to spread peace throughout the globe, where is 
the reply of conscience, when you are asked, 
Whence come wars and private variances amongst 
you ? Not originally from God, as a necessary 
chastisement of the fall — but come they not 
hence; — even from your own lusts*? 

Sorrows and death, it is not denied, were 
brought into the world by the sin of our first 
parents : — but have not sorrows been multiplied, 
has not death been rendered more formidable, by 
the voluntary depravity of us, their posterity ? 
Do not our intemperance, our imprudence 3 and 
the irritation occasioned by our harbouring the 
vindictive passions (I am now speaking in rela- 
tion to the present life), fill to the brim with 
bitterness that cup, into which no more than a 
drop of gall was necessarily mingled, as the- 
recompense of original sin ? — do not these com- 
bine to sharpen the sting of death, and to acce- 
lerate the victory of the grave? — And then, 
forsooth, we must murmur against God, as if 
he had called us into life to be miserable ; and 
wantonly, like an austere tyrant, broken that 
fortune, — impaired that constitution, that cha- 
racter, that peace of mind, which frugality, 
sobriety, circumspection, integrity — strength- 
ened by those influences which he did not with- 
hold — might easily have preserved entire! The 
* James^ iv, 1. 



186' SERMON X. ■ „ . 

foolishness of man pervert eth his way, and his 
heart fretteih against the Lord*'. 

A question, however, yet remains, to which it 
may be of consequence to reply. Why did God, 
the unbeliever has often urged, and even the 
humble Christian may be disposed to inquire, 
why did the Almighty make man a free agent? 
especially if he foresaw, as the Christian system 
supposes him to have done, that his creatures 
would wofully abuse their free-agency, and in 
this manner involve themselves in many and 
deep afflictions? — Wherefore did his goodness 
make us at all liable to transgression, or appoint 
that the transgressions of his creatures shouldne- 
cessarily draw after them so many deplorable con- 
sequences? — In less popular language, why does 
moral evil, the source of natural evil, exist? 
Might not the Supreme Governor have created 
us wholly impeccable; and in this manner se^ 
cured the continuance of primeval happiness?— 
My brethren, it becomes us, in stating such 
suppositions, to beware of pushing our inquiries 
too daringly, lest the creature should be found 
presuming to ask the Creator, with dissatisfac- 
tion, Why hast thou made me thus^f 

* Pro v. xix. 3. 

9 E| oifxEwv yct£ <Poiort xcIh epti&i j 6* $\ k at/TOf 
E^ricnv aTcec&aX/Wi* vtt^ poaw a,\y\ t^wr**. 

Odyssey, lib. i, 1. 33^ 

•j- Rom. ix. 2Q. 



Ott THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 187 

Revelation informs us, however, and, so far 
as this guide is vouchsafed, we are permitted 
and encouraged to investigate, that the design 
of God, in calling us, as intelligent beings, into 
existence, was to make us happy, in a certain 
degree, by an exertion of intelligence ; that is ? 
through the medium, and on the condition of obe- 
dience to his laws. Here, then, a choice betwixt 
compliance and contempt is pre-supposed : — 
and God kindly attached certain penalties to 
disobedience, in order to teach his creatures to 
avoid it. The existence of evil, therefore, as a 
scourge of sin, so far from being an impeach- 
ment of the divine goodness, is a proof of it. — 
It cannot be said to have been, at the first, un- 
avoidable ; and man, in incurring it, had him- 
self to blame. And this is true, in reference, 
not only to the sin of Adam, but to the parti- 
cular transgressions of all of his posterity. The 
evils which these transgressions are known to 
produce, if considered in the light of warnings, 
will appear to be benevolent interpositions : and 
it must still be kept in remembrance, that, with 
reference to our own trials, by abstaining from 
the transgressions, we are able to avoid their 
consequences, 

The existence of evil, then, being absolutely 
necessary, to determine the choice of intelligent 
beings, whose happiness was to be reconciled 



SERMON X. 



with their free decision, their endurance of it, 
on being convicted of guilt before God, became 
the painful but just result. To all this I will 
briefly add, that a higher degree of happiness is 
provided for intelligent beings, in the conscious- 
ness of their having conquered in a struggle; — 
obeyed divine commands, and complied with 
divine influences, when resistance to both was 
in their option,— -than could result, if I may 
use the expression, to sensitive machines, from 
reflecting on a virtue to which they had been 
blindly and irresistibly impelled *. 

Ill; But let us now, in the last place, remark 
the further, the superlative goodness of our 
Almighty Parent. For by a contrivance of his 
providence, never to be sufficiently admired, it 
is happily ordained, that even these necessary 
inflictions should conduce to the final good of 
his creatures ; — and to good, which, on the very 
lowest calculation, fully counterbalances all the 
previous evil. 

Both the inevitable misfortunes of existence, 
and those which are the immediate consequences 
of personal imprudence, are directed by the 
hand of an overruling Providence to the pro- 
duction of ultimate good. To begin with the 
slighter evils incident to our state : the thunder-? 

* See law on King, p. 3»45« 



ON THE ORIGIN A^D PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 189 



storm, we may observe, clears the firmament* 
The devastating hurricane purifies the atmo* 
sphere from noxious vapours. Those clouds 
of insects which infest the summer (for incon- 
veniencies, as well as misfortunes arising from 
the fall, may contribute to the elucidation of 
the argument before us), are known to feed on 
putrescent substances, and thus to prevent their 
tainting the air which we respire. Turn, next, to 
any, it matters not which passage, in the records 
of civil history. The enthusiastic excursions 
of the Crusaders into the East, where so many 
fell victims to famine, the pestilence, and the 
sword, are ascertained to have been the means 
of introducing several valuable improvements, 
in agriculture and the arts of life, into the dif- 
ferent countries of Europe; while, by alien- 
ating the lands of the smaller feudal despots, 
they diffused that free commercial spirit, which 
has, more equally than in preceding ages, 
distributed comfort amongst all ranks of so- 
ciety. In like manner, prior to that memorable 
Conflagration, which destroyed a large part of 
the British metropolis, vast numbers were fre- 
quently carried off by the plague, nourished, 
as it was, by the narrowness of our streets :— 
but the lines of dwellings having been since 
built more widely apart, that dreadful calamity 
has happily disappeared. How often has war, 
kindled by the ambition of mortals, been ren* 



ISO 



SERMON X. 



dered the awful instrument by which the Al- 
mighty punishes, or ex terminates a guilty nation! 

If we were now to descend to the humbler 
page of common life, and of daily experience, 
which is ever open before our eyes, similar in- 
stances might easily be produced, to an extent 
far exceeding our present limits. To select a 
few at random : is it not obvious to remark, 
that when prodigality brings on the ruin of one 
family, it distributes wealth and employment 
amongst many? — that when, by a decree of 
Heaven, intemperance shortens human life, it 
delivers society from the burden of an useless 
and a noxious member ? And, with respect to the 
personal advantage of the sufferers, if the present 
prosperity of the comparatively virtuous be un- 
certain — an often experienced consequence of the 
fall — their virtue is thereby purified from baser 
motives, and taught to look for nobler though 
distant rewards. It is indeed the natural ten- 
dency of misfortune of every description, to hum- 
ble pride, to inspire serious reflection, to detach 
the soul from sublunary things, and to inculcate 
a sense of dependance on the Divine Being. — 
Many of the most exalted and amiable virtues 
too, which lend a grace to the human cha- 
racter, or which bind man more closely to his 
brother, — patience, meekness, magnanimity, 



m THE ORIGIN ANt) PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 1<H 



compassion, charity, are called into activity by 
circumstances of distress. The thorns and the 
thistles, which the earth was condemned to 
bear, for a perpetual testimony of the sin of 
Adam, arouse in his descendants the exertions 
of industry : — and lusty and sun-burnt industry, 
earning his bread with the sweat of his brow, 
is the parent of health, of contentment, of 
cheerfulness ; of all the domestic virtues, and 
all the tranquil delights. Thus true is it, 
even in a temporal sense, that he who goeth 
forth and weepeth, shall doubtless return with 
gladness, bearing his sheaves with him*. 

Once more, how incalculable is the advan 
tage derived by morality, from the shortness and 
insecurity of human life ! What dissuasive 
from worldly-mindedness can be more forcible 
than the consciousness that our sojourning is 
limited by fourscore years : — what argument 
more cogent for standing with our lamps con* 
tinually trimmed, and our loins girded, than the 
conviction that on any portion of even one of 
these years, we are unable to reckon with the 
slightest assurance? And what, under revela- 
tion, is death itself, the grand natural evil which 
sin hath introduced? — It is to bid adieu for ever 
to the place of toil and sorrow, and to be con- 
veyed to a shore of ineffable felicity. — It is to 

* Psalm cxxyi. 6. 



192 



SERMON X. 



rest from our labours, and to be blessed in the 
Lord *. 

By such views, then, short-sighted though 
we be, we are, to a certain length, enabled to 
develope the designs, and to justify the provi- 
dence of the Divine Ruler, in the dispensation 
of. adversity : — and there is every reason to be- 
lieve, that the superior knowledge, which, we 
trust, is reserved for us in a future state, will 
afford us ampler, and indeed complete satisfac- 
tion, on the same momentous subject. If, in 
the past history of every one of us, it has oc- 
curred, that afflictions, which at one period of 
life our impatience and impiety perhaps attri- 
buted to the wanton caprice of the Divinity 
sporting with our sufferings, have unexpectedly 
proved the means and commencement of good, 
may wenot conclude that every other evil, which 
we endure or witness, but of which we cannot so 
clearly perceive the beneficial tendency, is, in 
the same manner, and will at length appear to 
have been, only a necessary link in that great 
chain, which conducts to ultimate happiness :— 
that a time is approaching when all the seeming 
irregularities in the ways of Divine Providence 
will disappear; when the high places shall be 
made plain, and the rough places even ; when 
the fair proportions of order will arise, where 
we had formerly beheld only confusion ;->-wis- 
* Rev. xiv. 13. 



OX THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 193 



dom, where we had distrusted ;— ^rriercy, where 
we had complained: — when* ashamed of the 
narrowness of our past views, and of the rash- 
ness of our former repinings, we shall discover 
that all things, even the most calamitous, have 
wrought together for our greatest possible ad- 
vantage ; — that all the judgments of the Al- 
mighty Governor are excellent and that* 
whether for the production of general or indi- 
vidual good, the great plan of Heaven has been 
the happiest and the best. 

The above-mentioned instances, however, of 
the conversion of evil into good, though fat 
from being unworthy of most serious content 
plation, must all be regarded as only minor il- 
lustrations of this latter branch of the subject 
before us, when viewed in comparison with that 
astonishing fact, the grand and awful mystery 
of human redemption. No sooner had man 
fallen, and excluded himself from all hopes of 
inheriting eternal happiness, than means of re- 
covering his lost condition are revealed to him 
by the offended, yet merciful Creator. A few 
short-lived afflictions are awarded, rather as 
standing memorials, than as an adequate pu- 
nishment of his guilt: — but the severe aspect 
of strict justice is softened by the mildness of 
pardoning love; and the same voice, which 
pronounces the merited doom, Dust thou art, 



194 



3ERM0N X. 



mid unto dust shalt thou return, at the same mo- 
ment delivers a promise of the Saviour, who 
shall arise in due time to bruise the serpent's 
head. The plan of salvation is gradually un- 
folded in the long progression of succeeding 
ages, until the full light of the Gospel displays 
at length to man, as he is fallen and ruined, the 
sacrifice for sin; — as he is mortal, the van- 
quisher of death; — as he is depraved and of 
himself incapable of obedience, the messenger 
and the giver of grace. 

To conclude: — From these reflections let us 
learn, my fellow-sufferers, to improve our con-' 
fidence in the divine goodness ; to redress, as 
far as lies within our capacity, the multiform 
evils that exist around us ; and to convert to 
wise and beneficial purposes, such of these evils 
as affect ourselves. 

1. We have seen, that there is actually far 
less evil in the world, than man, in his impa- 
tience, wildly complains of ; or, from a slight 
examination, is led to conceive : that such as 
really exists is not wantonly inflicted by God, 
but is occasioned by human sinfulness ;— partly 
by the original guilt of our first parent, and 
partly by our own transgressions. We have 
seen, that as man is an intelligent being, a free 
agent, and designed to be made happy through 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 1£5 



the medium of moral improvement, the exist- 
ence of a certain portion of evil was necessary, 
as a warning by which this choice of reason 
might be determined ; and that every affliction 
which befalls him, whether unavoidable, or 
procured by himself, — whether the scourge of 
original or of personal criminality, is trans- 
formed by Providence into an eventual benefit, 
and made to terminate in good. Is there not 
much here to teach us admiration of the divine 
wisdom ; adoration of the divine goodness ; 
— to rebuke our discontent ; to silence our mur- 
murs ; to dispel all distrust of the superintend- 
ence under which we are placed ; and to recon- 
cile us to whatever grievances are mingled in 
our condition ? Surely we ought to love the 
Lord our God, as a Being who taketh no plea- 
sure in our unhappiness ; whose very chastise- 
ments, though just, are few, — though neces- 
sary, are gentle; and who causes only those 
tears to flow, which call forth and cherish the 
fruits of joy. 

2. The subject, now considered, ought next 
to incite us to redress, as far as lies within our 
power, the numerous evils which we every 
where behold. We are fully aware of the di- 
vine intention, that these sufferings should be 
no severer than is strictly necessary for effect- 
ing their proper object : — and that they should 



196 



SERMON" X* 



all terminate in the advantage, — in the happi- 
ness of the sufferers. Nay, all the maxims incul- 
cating charitable offices, with which the sacred 
writings so copiously abound, demonstrate, that 
a measure of sorrow is permitted to exist, or to 
continue after having fulfilled its errand of 
chastisement or amendment, for the express 
purpose of improving our benevolent affections, 
as spectators of it, in its removal. If we com- 
plain then of the sum of calamity that is in the 
world, here is a w r ay in which we may diminish 
it. Almighty God inflicts "his own punish- 
ments ; and appoints us as the instruments of 
terminating their operation. And if we de- 
cline that agency to which we are destined, do we 
not, in truth, disturb the courses of Provi- 
dence, obstruct the channels of divine mercy, 
and unnecessarily multiply afflictions upon the 
earth? In providing, therefore, bread, and 
clothing, and instruction, for the hungry, the 
naked, and the ignorant; in redressing the 
wrongs of the oppressed, and in consoling the 
sorrows of the unhappy, — let us learn to per- 
form our office, as almoners of Providence, and 
as ministers of God, for good unto his crea- 
tures. 

3. That we should improve to good purposes- 
such evils as affect ourselves, is the last lesson 
to be mentioned, as growing out of the present 
subject. It has been already shown, and I 



ON THE ORIGIN AND PREVALENCE OF EVIL. 197 



trust satisfactorily, that God, in his wrath, re- 
membereth mercy ; — that he inflicts no calamity 
willingly or capriciously ; and that in every one 
of his chastisements there is a design to bless. 
Now, it is in our power, and it is our duty, to 
cp-operate with this gracious design, in our 
own afflictions/ as w r ell as in the sufferings of 
our neighbours. And our sorrows, of whatever 
nature they may have been, will indeed have 
well accomplished their destined purpose;— 
they will be converted into blessings,— -they will 
appear as so many proofs of the divine good- 
ness, if they shall be found to have produced the 
happy effect, under the grace of God, and through 
our own humble exertions, of arresting our speed 
in the career of thoughtlessness, — and weaning 
us from an over-fondness towards this vain and 
transitory world—of awakening in our breasts 
an interest for our grand concern — of leading 
our penitent steps to the foot of the cross— of 
elevating our thoughts, and pointing our hopes 
and affections to the throne and the bosom of 
God, 

Then shall we have ample reason to acknow- 
ledge, with a gratitude, issuing from the inmost 
recesses of our souls, It is good for us that in 
time past we have suffered affliction ; since we have 
thereby knoxvn the divine law * Then shall we 
* Psalm cxix. 
o S 



198 



SERMON X. 



experience that an ever-gracious Providence 
makes all events, both distressful and fortu- 
nate, to combine silently for the peace and 
welfare of the faithful ; and that the light and 
momentary afflictions of the present time are 
not worthy to be compared with the glory by 
which, through the merits of Jesus Christ, they 
will be succeeded. 

And one qf the elders answered, saying unto 
me, What are these which are arrayed in white 
robes, and whence come they ? And I said unto 
hiin, Sir, thou knowest : and he said unto me. 
These are they which came out of great tribula- 
tion, and ham washed their robes, md made them 
white in the blood of the Lamb : therefore are they 
before the throne of God, and serve him day and 
night in his temple : and He that sitteth on the 
throne shall dwell among them ; they shall hunger 
no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the 
sun light upon them, nor any heat : for the Lamb 
which is in the midst of the throne shall feed 
them, and lead them unto living fountains of 
waters : and God shall wipe axvay all tears from 
their eyes. 

# Eev. ch. vii. 



199 



SERMON XL 

ON THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE 
METROPOLIS * 



PSALM LV. VERSES 10, 11. 

Day and night they go about upon the walk 
thereof: mischief also and sorrow are in the 
midst of it. Wickedness is in the midst thereof; 
deceit and guile depart not from her streets. 

Although temptation, in its various forms, be 
incidental to all conditions of life, there are 
certain situations unfortunately beset with a 
more than ordinary share of it. Thus spiritual 
perils are more thickly scattered in the path of 
the inhabitants of great cities, than in the se- 
questered and hallowed shade of rural retire- 
ment. Since therefore it is our lot, my Chris- 
tian brethren, to be placed in the midst of these 
dangers, and probably prevented by our several 
occupations from retreating to abodes of com- 
parative safety, it is in the highest degree expe- 
dient that we should ascertain the nature and 
extent of the manifold evils with which we are, 
on all hands, encompassed, to the end that we 
may, if possible, obviate or abate their influence. 

* Preached at the Philanthropic ChapeL 
o 4 



5200 



SERMON XI. 



I shall accordingly consider the perils pecu- 
liar to a metropolis, as it abounds with objects 
of attention, as it presents numerous solicita- 
tions to pleasure, and as it is extended in size. 

I. As a great city abounds with objects of 
attention, it is natural to suppose, experience 
indeed too fully evinces", that at best a hasty 
glance, a slight and imperfect consideration, 
will be bestowed on the interests of eternity. 
Where our worldly employment, the concerns 
of public associations, something ever to be 
seen, to be heard, and to be talked of ; — where 
ceremony, politeness, friendships, -and inter- 
course at the social board, have all their re- 
spective claims upon our notice, — -our duties to 
God, as comprising prayer and praise, and a, 
regular perusal of the sacred writings ;— the 
more religious and serious of our duties towards 
our neighbour, as stretching out into the details 
of active assistance, and of charitable visita- 
tions, are in danger of occupying but a scanty 
space. 

Amongst these objects, soliciting and distract- 
ing the attention, — politics, chiefly owing to 
our vicinity to the seat of government, and to 
the absence of agricultural and other field pur- 
suits, not less than to the nature of the inter* 
course in large societies, which renders conver- 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 201 



sation on general and public topics, the chief 
bond of social communication; — politics will, 
on these accounts, agitate the minds of men, 
much more than in provincial districts : while 
a condensed population facilitates assemblies, 
and combined movements, whether for pa- 
triotic or for factious purposes. Amidst all the 
consequent stir and worldly zeal; — the ardour 
of public spirit, and the war of tempers, — 
how is the soft and gentle voice of religion to 
prevail, by the natural persuasion of its sweet- 
ness? Is not her song too likely, if at all re- 
garded, to be heard with indifference, and spee- 
dily forgotten, charm she ever so wisely * ? 

But it is chiefly in the light of obstructions 
to the duty of self-inspection, and consequently 
to the amendment of life which it prompts, 
that I wish to insist at present on these local 
peculiarities. That seclusion and quietude, — 
that uniformity of scene, — that stillness of na- 
ture, — the regularity of habit, and the freedom 
from interruption, which render a country re- 
sidence so favourable to protracted meditation, 
are, I need hardly say, almost unknown in the 
centre of a crowded and busied society. Ever 
tempted abroad by the enticement of novelties 
offering themselves in endless vicissitude, the 
mind is but little likely to direct its attention 
in wards , Every day invited forth by the al~ 
* Psalm lviii. 



202 



SERMON XI. 



luring promise of fresh acquisitions to its in- 
formation, it will neglect the salutary exercise 
of examining and converting to a wise use, the 
treasures it has already collected : still devour- 
ing, and never ruminating ; still on the wing, 
and never at rest. Amidst a continual tumult, 
a variety of avocations, and a succession of ob- 
jects passing rapidly before the eye, short will 
be the leisure, weak the inclination, and feeble the 
power, to settle into a state of mental retrospec- 
tion. Attention is hurried on from one present 
object to another ; it skims over surfaces, and 
reposes on nothing : — one scene or occurrence 
is effaced by that which succeeds : — there is too 
much of acquisition, and too little of reflectipn : 
—and in a word, any effort of patient or of stead- 
fast thought is nearly precluded. A review of 
the past becomes as a twice-told tale, — as intel- 
ligence a day old ; — and a vitiated taste, like 
that of the men of Athens, covets and relishes 
only what is new. 

How unfavourable such circumstances and 
such habits are to spiritual improvement, will 
readily be acknowledged by those who remem- 
ber that all valuable, all earnest, and lasting 
amendment has ever commenced in devout and 
deliberate reflection. — When I thought on my 
ways, says the royal Psalmist, I turned my feet 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS.. 203 



unto the divine testimonies * A sudden impres- 
sion may awaken a momentary remorse, even in 
the most restless and imrefleetive mind, and 
lead to single acts of duty, or to a brief and 
transient season of obedience. But in order to 
purify the inner man, and thoroughly to rectify 
the conduct, it is necessary to confirm such 
casual impressions ; to shut our eyes upon the 
world; to withdraw our attention from sur- 
rounding objects ; to commune with our hearts, 
and be still : we must dive into the recesses of 
our own souls ; trace self-delusion through all 
its wiles, and, by recalling the history of our 
past failures, ascertain the points to which our 
penitence must be directed, or on which our 
caution must be awake. Now is this patient 
exercise of self-examination natural, is its pre- 
valence to be, in the course of things, expected, 
amidst the occupations and distractions of a 
busied metropolis ? Too well do we know the 
contrary. " Nor is it strange (if we may en- 
large on the expressions of our poet) : motion, 
concourse, noise, variety — are all combined to 
scatter us abroad. Thought, outward-bound, 
neglects our home affairs," and leaves un- 
searched and unregulated the breast ; — the great 
and the worthiest object of her inquiry. If, 
therefore, we cannot flatter ourselves that, un- 
der such circumstances, the duty of self-inspec- 
* Psalm cxix. 5Q. 



204 



SERMON XI. 



tion is likely to be much practised, we must ne- 
cessarily despair, in an equal degree, of the 
penitence and obedience which are its results. 
How can it be hoped, that they will deplore 
past misdoings, who are unable to find any 
seasonable opportunity for pondering on their 
sinfulness and danger? that they will be apt to 
improve the disposition, to whom time for ac- 
quiring a consciousness of its perverseness is 
wanting ? Is attention to the adornings of the 
soul to be looked for, from a multitude whose 
views are continually drawn aside from it? or 
can it be presumed that those minds will be 
turned to the divine testimonies, in which im- 
pressions are hardly formed when they are 
effaced ; and convictions are forgotten while 
they are yet fresh ; in which compunction, the 
first movement of religious consideration, no 
sooner arises, than it is expelled at once, by an 
host of miscellaneous objects of regard. 

II. A variety of dangers may, in the second 
place, be classed together, as existing, with the 
greatest force, in a metropolis, in consequence 
of its abounding, more than any other place of 
abode, with invitations to pleasure. 

Where the body is, says the Scriptural pro- 
verb, there will the eagles be gathered together * 
In the resort of multitudes and in the seat of 
* Matt. xxiv. 2$. 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 205 



wealth, will be collected all the solicitations of 
luxury. In speaking of these enticements, it 
seems unnecessary to draw a nice distinction 
betwixt such as bear the character of guilt upon 
their forehead, I mean the temptations to in- 
temperance and sensual living, and those ma- 
nifold calls to amusement, and excitements of 
artificial wants, * which, when considered in 
themselves, may less merit the imputation of 
criminality. Both agree, the former, if at all 
obeyed, and the latter, if immoderately com- 
plied with, in giving birth to ostentation, ex- 
travagance, levity ; in consuming irrecoverable 
time, in alienating the mind from domestic du- 
ties, and in producing that voluptuous and vi- 
tiated taste, which indisposes, as well as that 
entire expenditure of income, which inca- 
pacitates their votaries, for discharging the 
offices of charity. 

To the same origin, my brethren, may be 
traced another evil, which, from its extensive 
prevalence and serious magnitude, demands par- 
ticular notice ; I mean, an indisposition to ge- 
nuine piety. Those who are accustomed to 
flutter, during the week, from one place and 
scene of entertainment to another (however 
punctual they may be in external religious exer- 
cises), are in no proper frame of mind for the 
reception of serious impressions ; they soon be- 



206 



SERMON XX 



pome too apt to regard the house of God as one 
of their entertainments ; as that, appropriate to 
the Sabbath. And their habits of voluptuous- 
ness or gaiety having indisposed their minds for 
whatever is sober and unadorned, for whatever 
demands a patient exercise of thought, much 
more for whatever may, in the slightest degree, 
prove irksome to their feelings, they lose all 
relish for solid reasoning, for evangelical sim- 
plicity, for the plain and sober truth as it is in 
Jesus; and quickly take offence, when they 
hear the condemnation, however salutary and 
necessaiy, of any of their favourite excesses. 
They regard the sacred voice of public instruc- 
tion, as designed, less to meliorate the heart, 
than to delight the ear and the fancy : and they 
learn to value the words of their teachers, by 
the elegance of their phraseology, and the lux- 
uriance of their imagery, more than by their 
tendency to edification, or consonance with the 
Gospel of Christ. 

To the inferior orders, and along with them 
may be classed the necessitous in every condi- 
tion of life, this multiplicity of pleasures, whe- 
ther of a criminal, or, in themselves, an indif- 
ferent kind, is manifestly pregnant with pecu- 
liar danger, in proportion to the scantiness of 
their means of indulgence. Whatever evils the 
opulent incur, by gratifying the solicitations 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 207 



of appetite or caprice, they at least purchase 
their luxuries with their own lawful inherit- 
ance or honest earnings, and are not compelled 
to add fraud to their excesses. With the indi- 
gent, the case is widely different. If at any 
time, discontented with the homely accommo- 
dations of their lot, or tempted by the allure- 
ments which present themselves on all hands, 
they seek to deviate from strict frugality, they 
find, that, without recourse to some dishonour- 
able practice, their artificial wants are not to be 
satisfied. Hence all the arts of unprincipled 
invention, so prevalent amongst the necessitous 
in a large place of resort ; meanness and flat- 
tery, cunning and deceit, double-dealing and 
unfair advantage, pilfering and pillage. Hence 
the petty dealer poises the unequal balance, and 
the false witness is found, who will obstruct 
the course of justice. Hence also the vote is 
too frequently given away at popular elections, 
from views of interest, and not on principles of 
integrity. To the same origin, fruitful of 
almost every evil, may be ascribed the whole 
of that multitude of impostures, which, prac- 
tised by the fraudulent on the wealthy, render 
them callous, because distrustful, when real 
claims on their benevolence present themselves : 
impostures, which when viewed as thus sealing 
up the sacred fountains of charity, may with 
reason be numbered among the most nefarious 

4 



208 



SERMON- XI* 



offences. All these arts of diversified injustice, 
too familiar to the lower and indigent orders, 
result from a consciousness of their inability to 
obtain, by fair means, the pleasures which 
crowd around their senses; and hence, as we 
have just observed, the spot on which such 
pleasures most abound, must be to them fraught 
with more imminent perils, than to those whose 
coffers are commensurate with their desires. 

III. A metropolis may lastly afford an in- 
teresting subject of religious consideration, as 
it is extended in size. In more confined provin- 
cial societies, every man becomes an object of 
attention to all around him : each character is 
under the tutelage of a strict and unsparing 
public. Neither any individual, nor his bu- 
siness, nor his behaviour, can be long shrowded 
in obscurity : and evil deeds, the most secret 
and artful, are dragged into light by a watch- 
fulness of observation, and judged at a tribunal 
of severity. But throughout a large mass of 
building and population, it is manifest, that 
this system of narrow vigilance and relentless 
censure (which though frequently complained 
of, and not without its evils, unquestionably 
operates as no inconsiderable restraint on im- 
morality) cannot be extended. By reason of 
the immense bulk of a metropolis, the private 
transactions of any one part of it are nearly 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. &09 



unknown in another. The inhabitants too, oc- 
cupied about their own affairs, are not greatly 
interested in inquiring into the concerns, or 
disposed to notice the behaviour of neighbours, 
with whom they have few dealings, and little 
private intercourse. A great city is thus a 
hiding-place for wickedness : how powerful a 
temptation to the commission of it! What 
temptation more seductive, than probable secu- 
rity from detection? 

But this, unfortunately, is not the worst. 
When individuals, as in villages and smaller 
towns, find themselves observed by day and by 
night, in solitude and in society, in the house 
and in the way, the imposition of fictitious 
sanctity or virtue is soon perceived to be a hope- 
less experiment. But here, where the common 
habits of life, the man and his communication*, 
are withdrawn, where all persons are objects of 
notice and importance, only during the few hours 
of their appearance on the stage, -—in the transac- 
tion of their public dealings, and are not pur- 
sued behind the scene; is it not much to be ap- 
prehended, that some of the evil-disposed will 
make an unworthy effort, to present to the eye 
of man a simulated piety, — an unsubstantial 
image of Christian holiness,— professions which 
promise a virtue that does not exist, with the 
* 2 Kings, ix. 11. 
P 



£10 SERMON XI. 

view of thickening around them the atmosphere 
of concealment,— of removing* suspicion to a 
greater distance from their misdoings, — and at 
once of grasping the gain or estimation of god- 
liness, and of hoarding the wages of iniquity ? 

In adverting to this last danger, I am far 
from wishing to insinuate, that the number of 
insincere professors, in any large society, is con- 
siderable ; or to bring professions of religion or 
of integrity into contempt. This would be 
equally uncharitable and unjust; it would tend 
to sow suspicion betwixt man and his brother : 
it were to afford the shameless a triumph over 
the decorous ; the lukewarm over the zealous, 
the profane over the devout. I am persuaded, 
there are multitudes, amongst Christians of 
every denomination, whose external sanctity is 
an unavoidable result, and a natural indication, 
of the warm sensibility of their religious affec- 
tions ; who feel what they manifest, and are 
what they avow. More firmly am I persuaded, 
that without the cultivation of that habitual, 
deep-felt seriousness of heart, which displays 
itself, more or less, in outward holiness and 
protestation, the evils of a great city cannot be 
effectually remedied : and consequently, that of 
a grave and pious deportment (the external 
sign of seriousness), when considered with re- 
ference to piety and to the moral virtues, it may 
here, as in all places, be said with propriety : 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS, 211 

" These, these practical virtues ye ought to ob- 
serve; while, if ye would strictly observe them, 
ye ought not to leave the other duties, the du- 
ties of external sanctity," neglected*. 

I have only, now, stated, that this sober ex- 
terior may, in certain situations, be abused; 
while I have endeavoured to show, that it is no 
where more in danger of being abused, than in 
a vast seat of residence where it is practicable, 
with considerable security, to live hailed by the 
tongue and homage of applause in one district, 
and to be secretly reprehensible in another. 

To dangers thus great, then, inseparable fiom 
a metropolis, to these temptations of its own, 
superadded to its participation with other places, 
in common spiritual perils, I trust, my bre- 
thren, we are all agreed in perceiving the ne- 
cessity of opposing a strict and powerful counter- 
action. In narrower circles of residence, the 
mind, surrounded by unvarying scenes, and by 
objects that are few and familiar, is impelled by 
a kind of necessity to turn its thoughts in- 
wards. Even when not virtuous from a prin- 
ciple of self-denial, it is to a certain degree 
innocent, through the absence of strong or 
numerous temptations. And however little it 
inay be influenced by the fear of Go4, it is re- 
* Luke, xi. 42. 
P 2 



SERMON XL 



stricted within some bounds of decency and 
propriety by a dread of human censure. No 
doubt, when to circumstances thus favourably 
arranged,, Christianity joins her influence, a 
still more faithful, a far more comprehensive 
discharge of duties will necessarily be the re- 
sult. If therefore, even in a retired condition, 
wherein good conduct is in some measure the 
growth of the soil, Christian principles be thus 
important and valuable, they must be eminently 
essential, and indeed indispensable, in a large 
society, where none, or few of the natural causes 
propitious to upright and correct behaviour 
operate, and where all things are, unhappily, so 
disposed, as to encourage and forward the de- 
velopement of native depravity. 

From the variety of principles, presented by 
Christianity, as adapted to meet the dangers 
which have here been described, the following 
may, by way of conclusion, be selected, viz. 

I. A sense of human weakness, and**, of de-? 
pendance on divine help : 

II. A sense of the divine omnipresence : and 

III. A sense of the honour and advantage 
of overcoming great difficulties. 

I. Environed by so many perils as we have 
now enumerated, the inhabitants of a great 
city, above all other persons, are taught to make 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 2 1 3 

an humble confession of their own weakness, 
and to subscribe, with the full conviction of 
feeling, to the doctrine of divine grace. Thet 
can require no reasoning to persuade them, for 
the truth must have been written on their 
minds by experience, that the amplest know- 
ledge of duty, and the most earnest determina- 
tions to pursue it, will be utterly inadequate to 
preserve their feet from falling, unless they be 
supported by a strength superior to their own. 
Having, therefore, unusual occasion for this aid, 
let them, with especial assiduity, solicit it in the 
offices of devotion. 

This deep conviction of personal weakness, 
when rightly settled in the mind, will further 
induce them to betake themselves to active em- 
ployment, to shun, as much as their occasions 
permit, the distractions of tumultuous variety ; 
to be "keepers at home;" to cultivate a taste 
for retired and domestic, for sober and simple 
pleasures ; and at all times, if practicable, to en- 
gage their minds in some progressive task, or 
study, or labour, which may at once occupy 
leisure, fix attention, and cherish solid and 
serious habits ; — not that these resources are, by 
any means, of themselves, a sufficient safe- 
guard against temptation, — not merely as they 
are pronounced by prudence to be excellent 
auxiliaries of devotion (although thus to regar4 

?3 



214 



SERMON XI. 



them would be neither unlawful nor inexpe- 
dient), but principally, because they constitute, 
in the Christian's language, channels, in which 
the grace of Heaven delights to flow. 

II. To a consciousness of dependance on di- 
vine aid, let a sense of the divine inspection be 
added. Learn to regard the Deity as the 
great and ever-present witness of actions, of 
words, and of thoughts : for whose constant 
observation no extent of habitations, and no 
mass of inhabitants, is too great; — who from 
his throne on high looks down, at a single 
glance, on all that is passing in every part of 
the great scene, in which individuals seem, to 
the irreligious mind, to be lost ;-— who is not to 
be evaded by escaping the search of man ; — who 
follows the child when removed from the eye of 
his parent, the servant and the apprentice from 
that of their master ; — the father, the husband, 
the master, the citizen, from that of their 
households and neighbourhoods; — the public 
character from that of the public. 

Consider the Almighty Governor, moreover, 
as the witness of good as well as of evil ; — who 
marks with satisfaction, marks with approba- 
tion, every instance of strict, though secret in- 
tegrity ; — every well-principled, though unno- 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 2 1 5 

ticed self-restraint ; — *every benevolent deed, or 
prayer, or wish, which no human eye observes, 
and no trumpet proclaims. View in this en- 
gaging and endearing aspect, that " Father, 
who seeth in secret, and will reward thee 
openly 

III. Finally, be animated to a conscientious 
fulfilment of duty, by a sense of the honour 
and advantage of overcoming great difficulties. 
You ascribe to God the attribute of justice; 
and it is not, I trust, presumptuous to believe 
or to affirm, that although the most upright 
deserve nothing, and attain everlasting }ife, not 
by their own doings, but only through the 
merits of the great Redeemer of mankind; a Go- 
vernor, whose ways are equal, will, agreeably 
to his justice, in apportioning retribution to in* 
dividuals, weigh all the circumstances which 
shall have rendered them, during life, more or 
less pleasing in his sight : the degrees of holi- 
ness to which they shall have attained, the dif- 
ficulties with which they were respectively sur- 
rounded. Is it at all inconsistent with Chris- 
tian humility, to think that an apostle or a 
martyr will stand nearer to the throne of God, 
than the hermit of the desert? not merely on 
account of the greater utility of his life, but as 
Jie fought his way to his eternal home through 

t Matt. vi. 18. 

?4 



216 



SERMON XI". 



more powerful and painful obstacles? Thus, 
while they, who, in sequestered retreats, found 
few enticements to lure them from the right 
path, or who, living beneath a strict control or 
a severe scrutiny, were in a considerable degree 
prevented from wandering, — while these shall 
not lose their reward ;— a happier remuneration 
may be humbly expected by those, who, obe- 
dient to the impulse of the divine Spirit, while 
they had stronger inducements to swerve from 
duty, continued steadfast in it;— who, while they 
had little detection of men to fear, feared God ; — 
who were collected amidst distraction, — serious 
in the seats of revelry,- — sober in the centre of 
intemperate pleasure; — who acquitted them- 
selves honourably at the perilous posts, and 
who fought the good fight in the front of the 
hottest battle. 

With such principles it is most highly expe- 
dient that they whose business mingles them 
among the crowds of a metropolis, should care- 
fully familiarize their minds. A short recol- 
lection of them may, without inconvenience, 
enter into at least those few moments, sacred to 
meditation and devotion, which are supposed 
to occupy a portion of the morning and evening 
of every Christian disciple. Parents, impress 
them on your offspring ; instructors of youth, 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 217 



on your pupils ; masters, on all to whom your 
influence extends. To the rising generation 
they are eminently important; insomuch that, 
if they be neglected, it may be pronounced 
scarcely possible, that any felicity of natural 
disposition,— that any parental care, indulgence, 
entreaty, severity, confinement, should be ef- 
fectual to preserve the youth of a great city 
from failing headlong into vicious courses. 

Forget the instilment of these salutary lessons, 
and you overlook the most important branch of 
education. What is it to make provision that 
the manners of our youth shall be polished, 
their sentiments refined, their talents brilliant ; 
to enable them to push their fortunes in the 
world, or to rise to eminence in their day; 
whilst, doomed to move amidst an host of evils, 
they are rashly sent forth as sheep amongst 
wolves, wholly unguarded, and unprepared for 
the encounter ? It is to bestow on these unfor- 
tunate objects of instruction, a few shortlived 
and seductive advantages; but utterly and 
cruelly to neglect their main welfare, and to in- 
tercept the best prospects which their Creator 
lias opened and designed for them. 

My brethren, chiefly to ward off the evils, to 
impart the principles and the advantages on 



SBKMON XI, 



which we have expatiated, a body of benevo* 
lent individuals, aided by a liberal public, have 
erected the institution, within the walls of 
■which we have this morning offered up our 
common devotions to our common Maker. 
Behold (and truly gratifying is the spectacle) a 
numerous band of objects of your bounty, the 
greater part of whom have been snatched and 
sheltered from situations of exposure to the 
worst evils of a vicious Babylon ; and who are 
ajl at this time undergoing an education, in 
which principles of religion and useful em* 
ployment are united, in order to prepare them, 
under the guidance of Providence, for with-* 
standing their spiritual adversaries, whether 
their future lot shall be more or less exposed. 
To counteract the many surrounding perils, it 
has been your good fortune to have been nur- 
tured by piety; to have been early taught to 
remember your Creator ; to have risen to man- 
hood under the control of discipline, and in 
habits of diligence. These had no kind and re^ 
ligious parental care, — no art of industry placed 
in their hands, — no Christian knowledge infused 
into their minds, until the hour of their recep- 
tion into this asylum. Let your own hearts 
speak the rest. Consider what they might 
have proved, but for the bounty of the cha- 
ritable, and the solicitude of the zealous. Con- 



THE SPIRITUAL DANGERS OF THE METROPOLIS. 219 

sider and behold what they are; and bless, 
while you behold, the good work which rc^kes 
them so ; — industrious citizens ; worshippers of 
God; beings useful in their generation upon 
earth, and full of the hopes of a blessed im- 
mortality. 



£20 



SERMON XII. 

ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS 



£ SAMUEL, CHAP. XIX. VERSE 37, PART I. 

Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, 
that I may die in mine own city, and be buried 
in the grave of my father and my mother. 

Whatever gratification activity may impart, 
it is usually courted for the sake of ultimate 
repose. Could we look into the bosoms of 
those who are eagerly engaged in the marts of 
commerce, and on the steeps of enterprise, we 
should probably perceive them all to be influ- 
enced by a secret wish, to close their career in 
tranquillity and retirement. The soldier who 
gees forth at the call of patriotism or glory, to 
fight the battles of his country, looks forward 
to a season, when he shall beat his sword into 
^ pruning-hook, — when, sitting down among 
the companions of his earlier days, he may 
count his scars, and display his laurels. The 
physician, the lawyer, the tradesman, and all, 
in short, whose sphere of action lies in the 
throng, however intent for the present on pur- 
suing opulence or honours, expect that, in the 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 2% \ 

tleciiiie of life, they shall be enabled to escape, 
from the tumult of the crowd, and the conten- 
tions of rivalship, to that ease, from which they 
only abstain for a while, that they may enjoy it 
in the end with greater dignity and satisfac- 
tion. Thus universal is the desire expressed 
by Barzillai : — prevailing even in the hearts of 
the most adventurous and unsettled : — of the 
merchant and mariner, whose fondest wishes, 
whithersoever they go, are pointed towards 
their home. Ever faithful as their own magnet 
to the pole, they look to that repose of which 
they were originally impatient, and which in 
the morning of life they deemed an inglorious 
slumber,— as the end of their toils, and the re- 
compense of their clangers. 

It is true, that there are some, who, though 
continually looking forward to, never actually ar- 
rive at, this issue of their occupations ; — always 
abjuring, yet never forsaking the world pant- 
ing for the shade, but unable to quit the glare 
of day ; — or still having in fancy one more ob- 
ject to attain, before they shall bid a final adieu to 
their labours. The bulk of mankind, however, 
are, happily, not the slaves of this deplorable 
procrastination. Having, under the divine fa* 
vour, gathered together an independence, and 
passed in safety through the dangers of middle 
life, they at length fulfil their design of relin- 



SS£ SERMON XII. 

quishing the scene of activity, and of termi- 
nating their course in privacy and peace. 

Yet, alas ! amongst the multitudes who have 
been thus fortunate, how small is the number 
who have converted to a wise use, that precious 
repose from agitation which they have obtained ! 
By how very few has it been contemplated in 
forecast, — by how few employed, when pos- 
sessed, otherwise than as an opportunity of en- 
joying the inferior delights of bodily and mental 
relaxation ; — of going back again to their own 
city, — slumbering out a few years in unprofit- 
able indolence, — of dying in the arms of their 
kindred, and being deposited in the tomb of 
their ancestors ! 

If such among you, my brethren, as these 
remarks more immediately concern, will favour 
me for a short space of time with your atten- 
tion, I shall endeavour to show, more particu- 
larly, in what respects this condition of retire- 
ment from the stage of life is abused ; and how 
it appears capable of being rightly improved. 

I. Many, having been confined, during their 
youth and manhood, to occupations of laborious 
activity, seem resolved to indemnify them- 
selves, in their declining years, by a total sus- 
pension of action, or what, it will be allowed, 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. £ L 23 

is but little more valuable, by an absorption in 
insignificant employments. These seem to for- 
get that vacuity and unprofitableness are cri- 
minal, throughout every stage of this exist- 
ence, in a being, who was called into the world 
but to be serviceable, and whose trials cease 
not but in the tomb. In this point of view, 
there is hardly a shade of difference betwixt 
absolute stillness, and eagerness about matters 
of no moment, — the toys and trinkets of a 
second childishness : they may here therefore 
be properly classed together as kindred misap- 
plications of an important and valuable oppor- 
tunity, alike obnoxious to Heaven, because 
alike unserviceable to man. Unhappy, then, 
those, who seek to engage their minds,-— when 
released from severer toil, — in gratifying the 
caprices of a trifling and fantastic taste ! Let 
them not fondly presume, that in delivering 
themselves from the languor, they have escaped 
the criminality, of total inaction. Their mode 
of life is inetiicience in disguise. The winged 
insect that wearies itself in fluttering on the 
sunbeam, seems as little serviceable among the 
works of creation, as any animal which passes 
its winter in. torpor, or as the sloth, whose mo- 
tions are said to be imperceptible : — nor is it 
easy, in our present state, to discover much utility 
in either, unless God hath formed the one and 
the other, that man may consider both their 



SERMON XII. 



ways, and be wise. It may be added, that as 
the employments of busied triflers are usually 
attended with no inconsiderable expense, their 
manner of life is even more censurable than 
that of the wholly vacant idler, who is able to 
spare, and who frequently does spare, some por- 
tion of the earnings of his former toils, to sa- 
tisfy the calls of indigence and distress. 

IT. Amongst the abuses of retirement, a 
nightly repetition of play, in its different gra- 
dations from time-killing to gaming, deserves 
a distinct place from inaction, or trifling em- 
ployment, as standing a degree above both in 
criminality. I would observe, however, to 
avoid unreasonable harshness, that the remark 
here ventured is applicable to the habit, rather 
than to occasional acts : — for though, in truth, 
it were to be wished that Christian and rational 
society could be supported in entire indepen- 
dence of this resource, to borrow its aid may 
sometimes be nearly unavoidable, in compliance 
with the laws of civility, or in alleviation of the 
infirmities of ao-e. Nor can it be denied that cha- 
racters of great worth and seriousness have not 
seen, in a rare or moderate resort to the occupa- 
tions here deprecated, aught that is incompatible 
with strict principle and cheerful piety. Yeteven 
to these it never can be conceded, that no less 
exceptionable recreations could be devised, — or 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 225 



that that which may be indifferent, in cautious 
moderation, in rare instances, or under peculiar 
circumstances, may not be highly culpable, 
when unceasingly and needlessly repeated : — • 
especially if it be observed to call sordid or 
angry passions into exercise, or to make deep 
encroachments on invaluable time. 

III. Slanderous, or at best unprofitable com- 
munication is much too frequently, I fear, re- 
sorted to, with the purpose of filling up that 
vacancy of soul, and those intervals of leisure, 
which are occasioned by relinquished business : 
—more especially, where the mind has not 
been furnished in early youth with a store of 
miscellaneous information \ or in confined so- 
cieties,, where, in consequence of constant inter- 
course amongst the same parties, — the materials 
for general reflection and communication, pos- 
sessed by each member, are soon exhausted, 
and known throughout his circle. It is a pro- 
minent advantage of active employment, that 
it engrosses so largely the time and attention, 
as happily to leave hut little inclination or 
power for watching the trivial habits of a 
neighbour, or mingling in the unimportant po- 
litics of a village. The professional man, and 
the toiling son of trade, study to be quiet, and 
to mind their own business *•. But withdraw them 
* 1 Thessal. iv. 11, 



226 



SERMON XII. 



from the sphere of regular labour, and they are 
speedily assailed by temptations, till then un- 
known and precluded. An active mind, long 
used to occupation, will, for the most part, be 
occupied still ; — but having abandoned its uni- 
form and serious pursuits, it will naturally 
glide into others within its reach ; — and 
hence, without any native meanness, perhaps 
without any plan of determined and deliberate 
malice, it will waste the remains of its energy 
in collecting the idle prattle, in propagating 
the floating rumours and defamatory chro- 
nicles, and in embroiling itself in the conten- 
tions, of the district to which it has retreated : 
« — thus basely degrading the useful citizen, — 
the public benefactor ; — him whose science re- 
paired the faded constitution,— whose eloquence 
vindicated the rights of the injured, or whose 
hands respectably toiled for the well-being of 
the community, — into what the sacred volume 
has so forcibly condemned, — a tatler, a busy- 
body, and a gadder from house to house % 

And the danger of sinking into these un- 
worthy habits is the more to be apprehended, 
as they may be, and frequently are, conceived 
to carry along with them the imposing appear- 
ance of an austere virtue. An individual re- 
tiring from the public scene, forms vague reso- 
lutions of forsaking its vices and levities : — - 
* 1 Tim. v. 13. 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 2fi7 

and it is extremely natural that his renuncia- 
tion of errors should be accompanied with 
strong dislike towards those who continue in 
them. This is accounted a necessary ingre- 
dient in his new virtue : — and it would not 
unnaturally seem to follow, that the slighter 
and more minute the errors condemned, the 
more rigid and exalted the holiness assumed. 
Such will, most probably, be found the pro- 
cess, by which an honest and legitimate indig- 
nation against bold impiety or scandalous vice, 
degenerates into a narrow and unworthy ob- 
servation and exposure of those miniature de- 
fects, — those specks of peculiarity, w r hich Chris- 
tian charity and manly candour ought, — if not 
to pass altogether without regard, — at least to 
veil in concealment, or to mention with in- 
dulgence. 

IV. In having expatiated thus largely on these 
prevailing abuses of a retreat from occupied 
life, I have confined myself, in point of space, 
to little more than the bare mention of the last 
and the most deplorable of them all — I mean 
Habits of Intemperance. Whether slowly 
contracted to chase away that gloom which re- 
sults from the languor of inaction ; or learned in 
unfortunate intercourse, as comrades in retire- 
ment, with the vacant, the sensual, and the sottish, 
— whose evil communication corrupts good man- 

q 2 



SERMON XII. 



ners, and madly teaches the baneful and deceit- 
ful maxim, — Let us eat and drink, since to- 
morrow we die; — instances, I very deeply 
lament to state, cannot fail to crowd, into the 
least censorious mind, of characters, who during 
all their happier days of employment, were pat- 
terns of strict sobriety; but who have sunk, in 
the shade of ease, into partial stupefaction; 
guarded enough perhaps to avoid ridiculous 
extravagancies, and not steeping their senses in 
total oblivion •< — yet never sufficiently sober to 
think with clearness ; to act with energy ; to 
be found in a state of sensibility to religious 
impressions; or to take wise and secure pre- 
cautions against the hour of their departure, 

And now, having brought to a close this 
first part of my subject, I will shortly ask, my 
friends, and leave the answer to your own rea- 
son, whether any one of the employments now 
freely censured be a suitable occupation for a 
rational being, in the decline of life, — on the 
verge of eternity ; — a being, ere long, to be 
removed from this abode of vanity, and to pass 
through the most awful changes and scenes. 

Let us now, therefore, direct our attention 
to an inquiry, which to some, it is presumed, 
will be an object of no cold anxiety, namely,— 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 229 

in what manner may retirement from the walks 
of tumultuous life, be the most profitably and 
rightly improved. 

** ... 

I. It is obvious* that, betwixt intense or 
compulsory labour, and a frivolous and ill- 
directed occupation, there is an intermediate 
class of employments, which combine utility 
with pleasure,— not being either so irksome or 
so uninteresting as to render exertion painful,— 
nor yet, on the other hand, so mean and trivial, 
as to stamp their votaries with the character of 
insignificance, or to leave a stain upon the 
wing of time. The man who, withdrawn from 
the turmoil of the crowd, contributes towards 
improving the pasturage or tillage of his 
country ; — who devotes attention to the culti- 
vation of its fruits, the nurture of its useful 
animals, or the embellishment of its sur- 
face ; — who even assists the birth of the 
flower, and studies God in his works ; — or who 
gathers health from the herbs of the forest, and 
spoils the fields of their fragrant medicines : — » 
he who devotes a portion of his days of retreat 
and leisure to researches in sciences connected 
with the arts of life ; — the experimenter in che- 
mical processes, or mechanical inventions; — 
he whose former habits have been conversant 
in literature, and who seeks, ere he pass away ? 

Q 3 



-30 SERMON XII. 

to leave to late posterity the fruits of his studies 
and experience; — once more, he who, with 
unfeigned benevolence, performs the decent 
rites of hospitality and friendship, — all these 
may be averred (so far at least as such duties 
may in this place deserve consideration), to close 
their days consistently ;— unbending without 
debasing minds released from professional or 
other severe labour, and enjoying the relaxation, 
without relinquishing the dignity, of rational 
and immortal beings. The expiring taper of 
life which they husband, is at once preserved 
by repose from wasting, and still trimmed as a 
light to give light to all that are in the house # . 
While the veteran of the world is thus not 
slothful, but " studious of laborious ease," his 
time is deceived without being squandered ; his 
mind is impelled, though with slackened pace, 
to its just end at all times, the service of man- 
kind; — and in this view it seems not beneath 
the dignity, or wholly foreign to the object of 
sacred instruction, to recommend, or rather to 
sanction all such offices, provided they be prac- 
tised from pure Christian motives of genuine 
love towards God and towards man, and ever 
be held secondary to higher obligations f . 

* Luke, xi. 30 f 

f In this paragraph, the reader will observe, and I trust 
excuse,, a few allusions to the works of some among our* 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 23 1 

II. Among these obligations, Charity, in a 
stricter sense, ought to occupy a considerable 
portion of the leisure afforded by retirement 
from active life. If the sick are to be visited, 
the ignorant to be instructed, the wants and 
woes of the timid to be searched out, and the 
real condition of more obtrusive supplicants to 
be ascertained, — if Fellow-christians, dwelling 
in a state of variance, are to be reconciled ; — 
if a diligent hand be needed for the administra 
tion of that species of charity, which requires 
a sacrifice of time and trouble; — if public en- 
dowments be in danger of languishing through 
\vant of the inspection and superintendence of 
zealous patrons ; — (and in every neighbourhood 
a considerable number of these manifestations 
of Christian kindness will be found to claim 
attention) — then such among you, my friends, 
as have disengaged yourselves from the cares of 
business, are the individuals to whom the com- 
munity has a right to look up, for the discharge 
of such charitable offices. They are convenient 
to your condition ; — they are suitable to your 
years. Your active neighbour, who has his 
private concerns to inspect, and a family yet to 
provide for by daily industry, cannot be ex- 
pected, at this period of his life, to divide his 



more popular poets, from which many expressions, on the 
present subject, could not fail to recur to the memory. 



SERMON XIL 



attention, in any considerable degree} betwixt 
the proper toils of his regular calling, and such 
pains-taking duties of charity, as have been re- 
counted* The utmost that now can in fairness 
be demanded from him, is the reservation and 
allotment of a portion of his earnings for the 
supply of funds, which, in the subdivision of 
the labour of love, it properly falls to your 
share to husband and to manage. If it be his 
to bestow on the indigent, pecuniary relief, it is 
yours to preserve him from the imposition of 
spurious claimants, and to bring beneath his 
notice proper objects of bounty. If religion 
have a right to tax his profits for the support 
of public institutions, it is your province to see 
that his contributions towards that object 
be carefully economized, and rightly appro- 
priated. 

III. Another duty which it behoves you not 
to neglect, or to delay, is a prudent disposition 
of your worldly affairs, in the prospect of your 
speedy departure. Set thy house in order, for 
thou shall surely die*, is indeed an admonition 
suitable to every Jiuman being, even to the 
healthiest and the youngest in this uncertain 
state:-— but its voice speaks imperiously to 
those withdrawn from active business, ancl fast 
declining into the vale of life. With reference 
* 2 Kings> xx. 1; 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 



233 



to the mode of bequeathing your worldly pos- 
sessions, the time commands me to rest satis- 
fied with submitting to you these few plain 
directions', on which your own minds can en- 
large. Let all lawful debts be, in the first 
place, discharged: — and next, attend to the 
duties imposed by relationship and gratitude. 
To these, private charities, and public munifi- 
cence, will succeed in their due and natural 
order. In a word, let equity precede libera- 
lity : and beware of carrying down to the grave 
animosities and resentments, which you are 
conscious ought to have been buried with each 
descending sun. 

IV. The last and most important concern, 
however, which belongs to you, my friends, 
whom I have now addressed, and whom I 
shall continue to address, with all freedom, is 
the preparation of the soul for its approaching 
departure. Of the imperious necessity of 
hastening this momentous duty, every pecu- 
liarity, every circumstance in your present 
situation, is calculated, most convincingly, to . 
remind you. In having disencumbered your- 
selves from the cares of active exertion, the re- 
flection must be obvious, that you ought to 
detach yourselves from the world; — that you 
have done, or ought to have done, with a mi- 
nute or eager concern about all the vain affairs 



SERMON XII. 



of this transitory scene, — the contests of na- 
tions,— the intrigues of cabinets, — the politics 
of your district, — the divisions in neighbour- 
hoods,-— and in short, as a matter of keen 
worldly interest, with every thing that is doing 
tinder the sun. Other occupations, higher 
destinies, — events incalculably more awful and 
interesting, await you, and are even now at 
the very door. They who are setting forth on 
their earthly career, — they who are moving on 
in the zenith of their activity, and exulting in 
the glory of their strength, may have some 
slight excuse, — I cannot say for forgetfulness, 
— but for a faint or intermitted remembrance of 
that termination of their present existence, 
which may be conceived, in the probability of 
ordinary calculation, to be yet a great way off, 
and for which they may expect, — I stop not to 
say how foolishly, — to possess at a later season 
ample time for preparing themselves. But none 
of these pretences, none of these expectancies, 
belong at all, my brethren, to your case. 
Your noon is past ; your day is far spent j—the 
lengthening out of the shadows of evening now 
reminds you, that you are come to the eleventh 
hour; and that if you have hitherto wasted life 
in negligence as to your grand interest, it is 
high time to awake out of sleep. It may be, 
that, in addition to your retreat from your 
calling, the frailty of your crumbling taber- 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 235 

nacle may have begun to inform you, that the 
spirit will not continue much longer an inha- 
bitant of it. Perhaps that living tenant may 
now see dimly through the darkening windows 
of its mansion; — perhaps the pillars of that 
mansion may be trembling beneath it. Or has 
the heaviness of age come upon you with its 
infirmities, and have the days drawn nigh, in 
which you say, / ham no pleasure hi them * ? 
And shall not all these warnings conspire to re- 
mind you, that you have eaten and drunken 
enough, and that it is time for you to rise from 
the feast, and to go away ? 

You may moreover recollect, that in the days 
in which, it is to be feared, you were but too 
diligent servants of Mammon, — Ged was not, 
as he ought to have been, in all your thoughts. 
You did not perhaps make that just distribution 
of your time, which might have left you leisure 
for worshipping his name. You stole, for 
the sake of pleasure, some of the hours of occu- 
pation, and repaid them out of the hours sa- 
cred to religion. Lo ! God has spared you : — 
afforded you repose, time, opportunity,-— blessed 
opportunity, if you but so regarded it — for 
considering and repenting of your having thus 
dishonoured him. What mgratitude,— what in- 
fatuation, to toy with as a bauble, or to trample 

* Eccles. xii, 1 , 



236 



SERMON XII. 



beneath your feet, this second, last, expiring 
occasion, of working out your everlasting wel- 
fare I Of such an indulgence, how many, who, 
like you, in early youth, or in full manhood, 
abused the former, have been deprived; — for 
it, how many would exchange the wealth of 
worlds ! Yet now, to-day, it is in your pos- 
session ; — O ! then, shall it not be prized, — will 
you not hasten without delay,— will you not 
strive, without intermission, to husband and 
to improve it? 

As all the circumstances in your present 
situation unite to suggest the duty of prepara- 
tion for death and eternity, so is every thing 
around you favourable to such preparation. 
You have less to obstruct your attention from 
the one thing needful, than you formerly had : 
-—fewer anxieties, irritations, disquietudes, to 
ruffle your temper, and to try your principles. 
You enjoy more time, — more composure, — more 
seriousness, — more freedom from interruption, — 
than were afforded for the task in the past years 
of your existence. You have laid down your old 
age in the lap of ease. You have come to the 
Sabbath in the week of life. You have pushed 
your bark from the tempestuous ocean, into a 
smooth and tranquil haven. The storm of pas- 
sion too has passed away ; — you have already 
had ample experience in the toils of plea- 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 237 



sure, of ambition, of worldly -mindedness ; — 
and most probably have had full conviction of 
their vanity. You have withdrawn to a spot, 
where there are still some traces of Eden: — 
where resolution is less debilitated, and desire 
less inflamed, than in the scene of sin which 
you have abandoned. All being thus favour- 
able to reflection and improvement, you will 
not surely live on to banish solemn thought,— 
or to sport and trifle down into the grave. 

You have made, moreover, your acquisitions 
in terrestrial knowledge ; the restless thirst of 
curiosity is allayed; — the drama is closed; — 
the curtain is dropt ; — and nature now inclines 
you to deal more in retrospect than expecta- 
tion ; — in narrative than in new research ; — In 
developing your collected stores of information^ 
than in acquiring others. Religion then, — the 
branch of knowledge which you have too long 
neglected, yet which must be acquired, and 
which happily may be acquired with ease; — 
Religion, — which in your case must greatly 
consist in contemplation of the past, — is hence- 
forward your proper employment and province, 
and claims an almost undivided attention. Now, 
where the heart is sincere, a review of the past 
can only result in self-reproach and abasement ; 
- — in a deep conviction of personal un worthi- 
ness:— and thiols the first principle, the found- 



SERMON XII. 



ation of Christianity. For such conviction 
will urge you to take refuge at the foot of the 
cross, and to acquaint yourself with the stu- 
pendous mystery of human redemption. From 
hence you will be led forward, by an easy gra- 
dation, to commune with the Holy Spirit as the 
sanctifying power* which shall enable you to ob- 
tain an interest in the merits of the Saviour, 
and to walk worthy of God, who hath called 
you to his kingdom and glory *. Like Simeon, 
you ought to live as it were continually in the 
temple * — to ponder on the divine law ; — to pray 
without eeasing ;— like that venerable old man, 
it will become you exclusively to centre all your 
views and hopes in the Messiah ; and having 
found him, to resolve on resting satisfied with 
the discovery, and to say with gratitude, Lord, 
now kttest thou thy servant depart in peace .* for 
mine eyes have seen thy salvation. When you look 
around you, you will recognize a region and a 
generation from which you are speedily to be 
removed ; — when you cast your eyes upwards, 
your soul will grow familiar with its destined 
mansions : — it will survey the country, and con- 
fess its home. 

In these plain admonitions, let me not be 
conceived to insinuate, that all the pious duties 
incumbent on persons who have retreated from 
* 1 Thessal. i'u 12. 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 

an active sphere, are comprehended in offices of 
devotion! This is the unhappy error of an- 
chorets and hermits ; — of those useless tenants 
of monastic cells, — who have mistake^ or per- 
verted the purity of the Gospel. Such 'retreat, 
indeed, it is not to be questioned, is preferable 
by many degrees to a life of world ly-minded- 
ness and profligacy; — yet it is not less inferior 
in value to one of useful exertion, #nd of ex- 
emplary virtue. To retreat, in any way, is better 
than to be subdued; — but to retire contend- 
ing, and with the face turned towards the 
enemy, is, as well in spiritual as in worldly war- 
fare, the only honourable retreat. The orb of 
light is not so fierce in his decline, as in the height 
of his meridian splendour: — he is less useful in 
ripening the fruits of the earth : — yet he ceases 
not gently to warm with his beams, and to 
gladden with his departing glory. 

Yours then be the task to mingle offerings 
of holiness with the devotions of your evening 
piety. Have no false shame in recounting yout 
omissions, — in imparting your regrets to the 
young by whom you are surrounded; that 
you may save them from your own hard-bought 
experiences, and erect a beacon amidst those 
rocks and shoals, through which you can no 
longer go forth as a pilot. Deprived of the 
power of guiding by active example, you still 



240 



SERMON XII. 



can exhort, admonish, and warn; — yet you 
will do so, I trust, ever holding it in remem- 
brance, that as all these in them selves are un- 
gracious duties, delicacy, in discharging them, 
is needful to secure their effect. The preceptor 
of wisdom must wait for suitable seasons, and 
approach his pupils with indulgence towards 
their years : — he will no.t obtrude his lessons on 
the hour of innocent hilarity, or inculcate them 
with distressing peevishness and teasing reitera- 
tion. Let him silently exhibit to them the 
piet} T , the reflection, the sober-mindedness, 
which he would recommend to their adoption, 
— in the blessed effects of rendering him cheer- 
ful, serene, resigned, and moderately active* 
amidst the pains and infirmities of declining 
years. This is the true secret of obtaining 
that respect, that love unfeigned, that atten- 
tive service, w^hich gay and heedless youth are 
naturally unwilling to pay to morose, and fret- 
ful, and self-willed old age. Thus will you be 
honoured, my aged brother, in the wider circle 
of that society in which you live; and find, 
throughout your vicinity, and wherever you 
are known, that the hoary head, found in 
the way of righteousness, resembles a fruit- 
tree in autumn ; which, while laden with ma- 
ture fruits for the profit of the gatherer, is 
yet capable of delighting the eye, by retaining 
all the softened beauty of its early foliage.— 



ON RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 



£41 



While tranquillity and resignation smooth the 
declivity of your journey, faith will brighten 
your prospects as your bodily vision fails ; and 
heaven dawn upon you as you advance towards 
its confines. Having turned back again from 
the world, you will die with becoming dignity, 
among your own people, — in your own city, 
— in the bosom of your own progeny and if 
buried in the grave of your father and mother, 
will enter their sepulchres without dishonour- 
ing their memories. You will fall like a shock 
of corn when it is ripe. You will descend to 
the grave like a venerable patriarch, full of 
years, of piety, of wisdom, and of honour ;— 
blessing, and blessed. And when the arch- 
angel of God shall wake you from your man- 
sion of dust, you will rise to the bloom of re- 
novated and immortal youth ; — you will enjoy 
a perpetual retreat from care and sorrow,—- a 
retreat for ever undisturbed, for ever happy. 
You will receive a crown far brighter in glory 
than you had experienced even that of the silver 
lock ; — a crown, the reward of fidelity unto 
death ; — a crown of life that fadeth not away. 



ft 



243 



SERMON XIII. 

ON THE CONDUCT PROPER UNDER FANCIED 
OR REAL WRONGS. 

ROMANS, CHAP. XII. PART OF VERSE 19, 

Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather 
give place unto wrath. 

Prior to the appearance of our blessed Saviour 
upon earth, the great duty of forgiveness was 
little understood. The Mosaic law, addressed 
to a people naturally stubborn and vindictive, 
was, to a certain extent, accommodated to their 
disposition. Besides, as it was intended, that 
the Jews should, for a season, continue a distinct 
race, and the depositaries of the true religion 
undebased by the idolatry of surrounding na- 
tions, the commandment which prescribed a 
love of enemies is supposed to have been with- 
held from the temporary code addressed to 
them, lest compliance with it should destroy 
that insulation of manners, which they were 
appointed to preserve until the fulness of time 
should arrive. That the law, in this view, 
might be made effective, it was rendered easily 
practicable : — a more exalted morality, tending 
to unite mankind, and to blend or soften their 



OX CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 



243 r 



differences, was reserved for a happier sera, — 
and the Almighty Legislator was, in the mean 
time, satisfied, with assigning regulations and 
limits to resentment. 

The Gentiles, with the exception of a few 
refined understandings, classed the desire and 
principle of retorting a wrong, amongst the 
spirited and more sublime qualities of the mind : 
—while they considered meek and patient en- 
durance as a mark of cowardice, and baseness 
of character. Thou shalt love thy friend, and 
hate thine enemy, was alike in the conviction 
of Jew and Heathen, — a maxim of justice, and 
the perfection of morals. 

It was the celebrated sermon delivered on 
the Mount, which first animadverted publicly 
on this imperfect virtue, and fully rectified the 
sentiments of mankind, as to their conduct 
under injurious treatment. Ye have heard that 
it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt 
love thy neighbour^ and hate thine enemy ;— - but 
I say unto you, love your enemies : bless them that 
curse you, do good to them that hate you ;—and 
pray for them that despitefully use you, and per- 
secute you. 

To a consideration of this branch, of refined 
morality, however^ it is proper still to advance 
r 2 



244 



s£rmon XIII. 



with cautious steps, and with prudent limita- 
tions. If the phrases, enjoining us, when 
smitten on the one cheek, to turn the other 
also**,— that is, deliberately to lay open our 
breasts to fresh wounds ; — or commanding an 
tm qualified pardon of aggressions, seventy times 
§even repeated f, — were to be received in a sense 
strictly literal, it is plain that injustice would 
reign uncontrolled, that acts of cruelty would 
be accumulated without end, and that the dis- 
ciples of Christ would be of all men the most 
miserable J. 

The injured Christian is allowed, in most 
cases, to seek redress at the tribunals of his 
Country, provided he be not of a litigious spirit 
in trifling matters, or actuated on any occasion 
by personal rancour. And the magistrate,, as 
lie is placed to be a terror to evil-doers, may 
avenge, by forms of law, a private wrong. 
Again, it is possible to be angry and sin not§. 
There are circumstances, under wbich resent- 
ment is lawful, or rather under which it be- 
comes a positive duty. A dishonourable pro- 
posal, — an attempt to shake principle, or to 
corrupt virtue, may be spurned with the live- 
liest indignation. Here an unruffled indifference, 
a tame love of the aggressor, would betray the 

* Lake, vi. 29. f Matt, xviii. 22, 

$ 2 Cor. xv. 19, § Ephes. iv. 2& 

2 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 



245 



absence of moral sensibility. A transient feel- 
ing of resentment may further be excusable, 
as a sudden trespass of infirmity ; although it 
deserves not that name if it be more than mo- 
mentary. The sun must not go clown upon 
our wrath *. 

Neither are we expected to treat an enemy 
with the same cordial affection, or unreserved 
confidence, which we naturally manifest in 
intercourse with a friend. Our behaviour may 
be marked by an abstinence from familiarity, 
proper to convey to him our sense of his en- 
mity ; and by so much of cautious distance 
as shall be necessary to guard us from its future 
attacks. 

Nevertheless, while our difference is pending, 
or in the height of our studied reserve, it is our 
duty, as it is practicable, to forgive and to love our 
enemy to rejoice in his prosperity ;— to com- 
passionate his misfortunes ; — to render him any 
service of assistance or humanity which he may 
require to pray for his welfare; and in fine, to 
be freely and fully reconciled to him, on his ac^ 
Jcnowledging and desisting from his offences. 

Fixing this general notion of forgiveness in 
our minds, let us now proceed to examine how we 

* Ephes. W. 2Q, 

- R 3 



"246 SERMON XIII. 

may, most effectually, bring our tempers to such 
a frame ; and what reasons, whether worldly or 
spiritual, advise the suppression of those male- 
volent affections, which prompt us to inflict 
pain, or to invoke vengeance, on our brethren. 

I. It is an important question, preliminary 
to this inquiry, whether the object of revenge 
be really an enemy. Admitting for a moment 
the propriety of resentment, have we paused to 
ask, is it in the present instance well founded? 
Have we received an actual injury ? Perhaps a 
short reflection will be sufficient to satisfy us, 
that such a construction has been groundlessly 
imposed, by our pride, suspicion, caprice, irri- 
tability, or misapprehension, upon some action 
wholly indifferent. Wrong, in a word, may 

have existed no where, but in our own erring 

p 

fancy, or diseased acuteness of feeling. 

II. But if the conduct of our neighbour 
have given us substantial hurt, another necessary 
question will next arise : — Was the injury which 
he inflicted intentional ? Nothing may have been, 
further from his mind, than the idea of giving 
offence, in that unguarded, though, to us, pain^ 
ful expression, in that heedless omission of 
propriety or civility, which, listening to the 
voice of our wounded feelings, we may be too 
hastily apt to attribute to design. Nay, it h 
not impossible, that we regard, as a deliberate 



ON* CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 



247 



affront, that which was intended as an act of 
the warmest kindness. How often are the af- 
fectionate warnings of a wise counsellor 
construed by a headstrong youth into an as- 
sumption of superiority ? We scorn, as intru- 
sion, the anxious zeal of friendship ; — we 
blame, as arrogance, the homage of humble- 
attachment; — and thus, a behaviour, which has 
alarmed pride, and kindled unreasonable resent- 
ment, ought, if rightly estimated, to have 
awakened our liveliest gratitude. 

III. Suppose now, that there exist both in- 
jury and malevolence; — it yet remains for our 
attentive recollection, whether we were not, 
ourselves, the first aggressors ? Did not our 
adversary inflict the wound in self-defence? 
— in resistance of our improper deportment? 
As to his criminality in retorting the first-dealt 
wrong, that is quite a different question, and 
no business at all of ours. If he has done so, 
the injuries are now balanced. A new one on 
our part will not even be retaliation. It will be 
fresh injustice. 

IV. But indeed, in point of prudence, whe- 
ther we ourselves were the original aggressors 
or not, a retorted offence is new matter of pro-, 
vocation, and almost infallibly ensures a re- 
iterated blow from the quarter whence the 

p4 



243 



SERMON XIII. 



former proceeded. It may be that the wrath of 
the foe has spent itself in the first assault. He 
may have been satisfied > — he may have for- 
gotten you. What folly then, to say no worse 
of it, will it now be, on your part, my Chris- 
tian brother, to rekindle that flame which had 
died away of itself ; to place once more in the 
hand of your adversary, that naked sword 
which he had returned into its scabbard [ Or 
even if his wrath still continue unabated, a soft 
answer, saith the Wise Man, turneth away 
wrath # ; and the most effectual method of ap- 
peasing an enemy, is the manifestation of pa- 
tience and forbearance. On the other hand, 
the too natural consequence of acts of resent- 
ment, is to incite an endless reciprocation of 
enmity ; since each proud spirit will not fail to 
harbour the conviction, that the scale of injury 
still preponderates on its side. Thus revenge is 
hardly more sinful than it is impolitic; — and 
to forgive would be the persuasion of selfish- 
ness, — though it were not the law of charity, 

I cannot deny, that, in the variety of human 
dispositions, no small number of overbearing 
minds are to be found, who regard meekness, 
and receive submission, only as invitations to 
aggravated severity. Towards these, such an 
outward behaviour may be pronounced allow- 
able, as is necessary to personal security ; — ?yet, 

* Pl'OV. XV. i. 



©N CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 2149 

we must be very careful, that it on no occasion 
be accompanied by any vindictive act, or in- 
spired by any sentiment of animosity. 

V. In the next place, it deserves continual 
remembrance, that revenge is not, by any 
means, our province. Vengeance wmine; I will 
repay # , saith the Lord. Nor shall we search 
in vain for very strong reasons, to vindicate the 
Father of the Universe in this assumption of 
retributive justice into his own hands. He 
alone is qualified to apportion the measure of 
retribution ; — because he alone has a full and 
exact view of the injury. To him alone are 
known the motives Which produced it: — the 
degree of malice which impelled our enemy's 
mind;— by him are equitably weighed all the 
extenuating, as well as all the aggravating cir- 
cumstances of the case. We know nothing*, 
but that we have sustained a wrong ; — that we 
smart under it; — that our painful feeling and 
our self-love strongly dispose us to magnify it 
above its due proportion ; — to hate the hand 
which dealt it, beyond measure, and to throw it 
back without moderation. Add to this, that 
there is something exceedingly preposterous 
and presumptuous in one sinful being's be- 
coming the judge and executioner of another. 
To his own master he standeth or fallethf. Our 
business upon earth is to. think and to study 
* Rom. xii. 19. ■)■ Rom. xiv. 4. 



SERMON XIII, 



how we may best obtain forgiveness for our- 
selves j not how we may punish our brother. 

These truths, I am persuaded, if duly re- 
volved, would induce us to render unto God 
the things that are God's wholly to resign to 
him the privilege of vengeance ; — and to desist 
from all proud and unbecoming attempts, of 
wresting fronr his right hand the thunderbolts 
of his wrath. 

Observe ; there is nothing here to contradict 
what has been already hinted, as to the com- 
petency of civil tribunals to punish wrongs. 
These can be actuated by no personal resent- 
ment; and that is the emotion which it is our 
present business to decry. We are in truth in- 
competent to decide impartially in our own 
cause ; — and the appointed arbiter stands in the 
place of God, to punish as nearly according to 
the precise aggression, as cool judgment and 
great wisdom can measure : and to award to 
the injured, reasonable redress, though not viny 
dictive retribution. 

VI. If, however, it should be pretended, 
that thus wholly to transfer the exercise of re- 
compense to the Almighty, or to his established 
vicegerent, is an effort of principle too difficult 
to be at all times, expected from frail humanity, 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS, 25 J 

•various and weighty considerations yet remain 
for overcoming an inclination to revenge. 
Among candid minds it will be admitted as an 
axiom, that hardly the most violent would 
deem resentment equitable, if the aggression, 
lifter inflicting a momentary pain, shall, in the 
course of events, or by a combination of cir- 
cumstances, have in any degree conduced to 
the advantage of the sufferer. Much less then, 
necessarily, will it seem deserving of approba- 
tion, when the wrong complained of hath led 
on to our highest possible,— I mean our spi- 
ritual good. That animadversion of calumny, 
which, reaching our ears, has humbled us in 
the opinion we had falsely conceived of our- 
selves, and reduced our mental stature from the 
measurement of pride, down to its just dimen- 
sions;— -that bold rebuke, which hath spoken 
to us an useful, although it may be an unplea- 
sant truth ; — any substantial injustice inflicted 
on our fortune, our character, our families, or 
our peace, — which has furnished us with expe- 
rience of the deceitfulness of the world, and 
introduced us to an acquaintance with true re* 
ligion ; — ought surely to soften, — ought even to 
dispel our ill-will towards the individual who 
hath been the unconscious bestower of these 
spiritual benefits. The good obtained will be 
weighed against the evil intended : and we will 
Jook with indulgence, and even with thankful 



252 



SERMON XIII. 



ness, on that enemy, who, in his wrath, hath 
blindly discharged an office of friendship. 

VII. This view of the subject suggests ano- 
ther of similar natuiv : — I mean, the propriety 
of regarding the wound we have sustained, as 
having proceeded originally from. God; — and 
him whom we call our enemy, as no more than 
the weapon of divine justice which chastises, 
or of divine goodness, which seeks our amend- 
ment. The injury, viewed in this light, is in- 
vested with an air of sacredness, and anger 
appears to border on rebellion and impiety. 
When Faith, looking beyond this visible world, 
has discovered in the heavens the unseen Author 
of the blow, resentment against the ostensible 
instrument of his power, sinks into submission 
to the mighty arm which guided it; and we 
learn to kiss the rod with which that arm hatrj 
smitten us, 

VIII. Reflection on the present condition of 
our enemy will further be highly useful, in ap^ 
peasing a vindictive disposition. Without any 
retributive severity on our part, he may already 
be sufficiently punished. Malignity is unhap^ 
piness. A spirit pining with envy, or rank- 
ling with hatred, is its own tormentor. Peiv 
haps his mind is at this moment lacerated by 
remorse., in remembrance of }m unjust con* 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 253 

duct; a prey to deep disquietude in the con- 
sciousness of his living with us in a state of 
unchristian estrangement : although Pride may 
wrap up those regrets, and that uneasiness, 
within the folds of his own gloomy and sullen 
breast. 

IX. Or should our adversary be a stranger 
to these delicate sensations, it will be yet well 
to remember, that the more destitute he is of 
virtue, so much the more is he an object of 
divine displeasure. If he has done wrong, — 
wrong unrepented and unrepaired, — alas ! it is 
registered among his other faults in heaven. 
And we cannot tell, but what he is already, in 
some affliction, suffering the beginning of his 
punishment ; though the connexion betwixt the 
hurt he has inflicted, and the chastisement he 
endures, may not be clearly evident, or may 
not be that of an effect springing from its im- 
mediate cause. What shall we think then ? Is 
not this evil sufficient ? Shall we seek to over- 
whelm misery, — to super-saturate resentment, 
by adding the venom and lash of our malevo- 
lence, to the sting of conscience, or the blow 
of Heaven ? 

And even if all things in the present world 
go on smoothly with him, ought we not next 
to reflect, that this enjoyment is probably but 



254 SERMOtf XIIL 

temporary ? It may only be a gleam of sun- 
shine, preparatory to a terrible storm. The 
woe that has not befallen him, may impend 
over his head. In this case, how worse thar^ 
cruel will it be, on our part, to anticipate eter- 
nal justice; — to urge reluctant vengeance; — 
to envy him a few fleeting moments of felicity; 
—and to come to trouble him before his time # t 

X trust, it is hardly necessary to hint that 
this consideration is by no means proposed as 
supplying food for revenge. I would indulge 
the confident hope, that the man lives not on 
earth, who has drunk so deep into the spirit of 
malignity, as to desire that such a fearful ex- 
tremity of retribution should befall his very bit- 
terest enemy. Reflection, however, on the 
bare possibility of its befalling him, ought 
surely to extinguish every latent spark of en- 
mity. It should touch our breasts with the live- 
liest compassion; — dispose us to deprecate his 
punishment; — not to contribute to it; — and 
render him, unhappy being ! the object, not of 
our wrath, but of our pity and our prayers. 

X, Yet if, in open defiance of all these cogent 
arguments, we will surrender ourselves to the 
inward fiend, and proceed to retaliate ; we must 
not forget, when contemplating the present, or 
the probable recompense of our adversary's in- 

* Matt. viii. 2p 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. M'$ 

justice, that by this measure we render our- 
selves liable to all the same evils, Wt contract 
the internal disquietude and self-torment be- 
longing to a malignant temper: — we involve 
ourselves in the hazard of receiving present 
correction from above :■ — we become obnoxious 
to eternal wrath : — so that in retorting malice, 
we are only, like the infuriate tiger who gnaws 
his chain, aggravating our own torments. In 
the mean time, we afford our foe a fresh cause of 
exultation; and in seeking to punish the au- 
thor of the wrong, we heap a two-fold pu- 
nishment upon our own heads. 

XI. This leads us on to that great, evange- 
lical motive, which is more weighty and per- 
suasive than all those that have preceded it; and 
which, if no one other argument for forgive- 
ness existed, would be of itself decisive upon 
the subject: If ye forgive not men their tres* 
passes, neither will your heavenly Father forgive 
you yours*. Who is he that shall look this plain 
proposition in the face, and continue for ano- 
ther moment to foster rancour against an 
enemy? Who is he, to state the question in a 
different form,— who is he who hath no tres- 
passes to be forgiven? Our ever-blessed Sa- 
viour took upon him our nature, and poured 
out his blood, for the remission of sins. )Je 
* Matt. vi. 15. 



£56 



SERMON XI II. 



suffered, to propitiate the Father, and to open & 
way for the acceptance of services, which* 
without that preparation, would have found no 
access to the favour of Heaven. Bat if we y 
my brethren in transgression, forgive not; if 
we refuse to perform the most Saviour-like of 
these services, the world will still be to us im- 
mersed in its ancient Heathen darkness ; — all 
the inestimable benefits of redemption will in 
our case be utterly lost ; the boon of pardon 
will be forfeited; and Christ will have died in 
vain. With the measure with which we mete, it 
shall be measured to us in return*. Than this 
there is no one canon of Scriptural morality, more 
explicit in its statement, or more unequivocal 
in its meaning. Satisfied then as to the truth of 
it, by what strange infatuation, by what de- 
lusion, can we presume to hope, or to conceive* 
that any prayer will find acceptance, which 
seeks reconciliation with God, before the sup- 
pliant shall have reconciled himself to man? 
No ; — the unhallowed orison will return upon 
his own head, to accuse, to condemn, and to 
cover him with confusion. That beautiful pe- 
tition, " Forgive us our debts, even as we for- 
give our debtors," becomes an ironical reflection 
cast by him on his own conduct. It is a de- 
liberate supplication of divine wrath; — and the 
Nearer of prayer will literally grant his, in ap- 
* Mark, iv. 24. 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. 



257 



pointing him his portion with hypocrites ; — for 
that will be forgiving him as he has forgiven. 

On the other hand, with how sweet a confi- 
dence, with how well-grounded an assurance, 
can he prefer this prayer, if he be conscious 
that he has fulfilled the "previous condition, on 
which, under the Mediator, its favourable re- 
ception is suspended ! If, after he hath first 
gone and been reconciled to his brother, he 
then come and offer his gift * — the gift of a 
truly penitent heart with respect to his other 
offences, — he may then dismiss all anxiety from 
his mind, and rely on his pardon, through the 
intercession of Christ, as firmly as if a mes- 
senger of peace from the eternal throne had 
acquainted him that he had seen it sealed. 

XII. For practising the sacred, — -we may say- 
emphatically, the Christian duty, which the 
various reasons now collected recommend, a 
concluding motive presses itself upon our, re- 
gard, in the examples held forth by Scripture. 
Among these the leading one is that of God 
himself and it is brought forward by our Lord, 
indeed, when enjoining the love of enemies : — 
Love them, that ye may be the children of your 
Father which is in heaven ;— for he maketh his 
sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth 

, * Matt, v, 23, 24, 



SERMON XIII. 



rain on the just and the unjust *. Even under the 
Jewish dispensation, although we have already 
seen that forgiveness as a legal duty was not 
fully specified until later times, — instances of 
this virtue, as prompted by the native impulse 
of a pious or tender disposition, are not want- 
ing. Joseph wept on the necks, and amply 
provided for the wants, of those unkind bre- 
thren, who had sold him into bondage. David 
forgave Saul, for that inveterate and unpro- 
voked hatred, which had instigated so many 
attempts upon his life: and the same heart 
yearned towards the rebellious Absalom,, when 
he rose up in arms to shake the throne of his 
father. 

But lest such instances of injuries over- 
looked, should be ascribed to the principles of 
loyalty, or of affection for kindred, behold the 
patient Father of Christianity, and the pattern 
of Christians : — who suffered as never man suf- 
fered; and forgave as never man forgave: — 
who exhibited in his conduct the duty which 
his precepts inculcated, and resigned his breath 
amidst the taunts and cruelties of his perse- 
cutors, — praying for their pardon, and apolo-' 
gizing for their crime, 



Doubtless so high an example ought to ani- 
mate and persuade us, not only to forgive our 

* Matt, v.. 45, 



ON CONDUCT UNDER WRONGS. %59 

V 

enemies, but to forgive them from the bottom 
of the heart ; — not merely to abstain from re- 
turning the evil they have dealt, but to over- 
come their evil with good. Therefore, if thine 
enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him 
drink # . For in so doing, it is added, thou shalt 
heap coals of lire on his head : — that is to say 
(widely different from the interpretation an- 
nexed to the passage by some self-deceivers, 
who have enshrined their rancour in the reli- 
gion which disclaims it, forgiving on the fiend- 
like principle of resentment), thou shalt melt 
down thine enemy's heart into tenderness, as 
the silver is refined by the furnace. This re- 
turn for injustice may overwhelm him with 
shame, and convert his rage into kindness. But 
however that may be, we shall assuredly, by 
such behaviour, have acquitted ourselves as 
disciples and imitators of our Lord and Master. 
We shall evince our having cultivated that 
heavenly disposition, which renders us meet to 
receive the adoption of sons ; — brethren of the 
glorified Son of the Most High; and joint 
heirs with him in the everlasting love of the 
Father. Through his merits we shall be enabled 
to lay claim to the inheritance; which mercy 
hath purchased, and forgiveness hath bestowed. 

* Rom. xii. 20, 
s % 



£60 



SER M O N XIV. 

ON HONOURING AND VISITING THE GRAVES 
OF OUR FRIENDS. 



ST, LUKE, CHAP. XXIV. LATTER PART OF VERSE 5, 

Why seek ye the living among the dead? 

To whatever part of the world we direct our - 
eyes, — whether we view men in a civilized or 
savage state, — whether we regard their feelings 
quickened by the influence of a vertical sun, or 
chilled by the frosts and tempests of the north, 
— we find them, alike in ancient and in modern 
times, anxious to collect the bones of their 
friends, to deposit them in a safe retreat, to 
shelter them from insult, and protect them 
from dispersion. 

By some nations the relics of the deceased, 
thus hallowed, have been interred, or hidden 
in the cave of a rock — by others embalmed, 
and preserved from decay by others, their 
ashes have been collected from the funeral pile, 
and enclosed in an urn, sacred to remembrance. 
Thus a reverence for the insensible earthly ta- 
bernacle is universal, however various the modes 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. ^6 I 



of evincing it. So far may it be traced, that 
history presents the proudest and most valiant 
nations of antiquity, submitting to own them- 
selves vanquished after a doubtful field, only 
for the sake of burying their dead. Many dan- 
gers were encountered, and large ransoms paid, 
for the recovery of a hero slain in battle. And 
the shades of those who had received no fu- 
neral rites, were fabled by the poets to wander 
many years, before the}^ could be admitted into 
the seats of the happy. 

When we turn to the sacred writings, we 
find them affording, in various instances, a 
sanction to this decent usage. The valley of 
dead bones shall be holy to the Lord ; — it shall not 
be plucked up, nor thrown down, any more, for 
ever*. Not to dwell on inferior examples,— we 
read, that the body of our blessed Master was 
carried from the cross, and laid by his disciple 
of Arimathea, in his own new sepulchre, 
hewn out of a rock. Even angel messengers 
are sent forth to the spot, consecrated by his 
temporary insensibility ; and are found sitting, 
one at the head, and another at the feet, where 
the body of Jesus had lain. 

In this sacred veneration for the bodies of the 
-deceased, our own customs are not observed to 
* Jer. sxxi. 4Q, 

s 3 . 



SERMON XIV. 

vary materially from those of other times and 
countries. We carefully restore ashes to ashes, 
.and dust to the dust from whence it came. Ouf 
cemeteries are reverenced nearly as our churches. 
We consecrate the ground where the dead are 
laid;— and shelter their remains from rude 
hands, and profane uses. We raise the stone 
to mark out where they are laid : and an in- 
scription records the last sad event of their 
history. 

Connected with this disposition to pay de- 
Cent honours unto the earthly remains of the 
departed, is another hardly less generally pre- 
valent ; — that, I mean, which so often prompts 
survivors to visit the silent spot where they are 
laid. And it was a custom in Israel, that the 
daughters of Israel went yearly to lament the 
daughter of Jephthah ike Gileadite } in the place 
where she had been offered— four days in the 
year*. The Apostles, Peter and John, are re- 
presented, in the New Testament, as anxiously 
watching around the holy sepulchre. How 
careful are the two Marys to come, early in the 
morning, to the tomb of their beloved Master ! 
And when one of them is thus addressed by an 
angel, Woman, why weefiest thou f — how strongly 
does her reply betray the feelings of the heart ! 
—Because they have taken away my Laid, and J 
know not zvhere they ham laid him f . 

* Judges, xi. 40, f John, xx. If, 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 2(53 

Customs, thus general as the voice of na- 
ture, appear to be dictated, not by strict rea- 
son, but by one of those fond illusions of the 
imagination, which men have at all times loved 
to indulge. Reason would tell us, that there 
js nothing in the grave which is capable of 
being either satisfied with our respect, or of- 
fended by our omission of it : — that underneath 
us earth is mouldering with its earth ; — and 
that, if the principle by which it was animated 
be still the seat of consciousness, it is fixed in 
a higher abode. It seems, then, that, obe^ 
dient to the suggestions of fancy, we conceive 
that the soul, which formerly inhabited the 
body, may still perhaps hover near its taber- 
nacle ; — to mark the decent rites presented by 
surviving friends; — to hear their voice; to 
witness their sorrow; and to answer to their 
call. IJence an anxiety to spare that spirit the 
sensation of beholding its earthly frame cast 
forth by the hand of indifference, to be the 
prey of animals, or a spectacle of offence. 
Hence the pensive luxury of lingering in the 
place of graves ; — of frequenting the hallowed 
spot where our associates are at rest from their 
labours. We regard the tomb as the porch of 
Heaven, where the living may go to hold con- 
verse with the dead. We there seem to standi 
on the confines of eternity, and to listen to the 
secrets of the unknown world, From the 
U'4 



SERMON XIV. 



distractions of care, and the insipidities of 
pleasure, it is not unnatural to retire to this 
gloomy satisfaction. " Sacred," we say, " be 
these last depositaries of our best and dearest 
treasures : — smooth and untouched be the turf 
which covers, — unstirred the earth which min- 
gles with their ashes; — -that disconsolate friend- 
ship may readily mid the scene most favourable 
to the indulgence of its tender and better feel- 
ings ; and know where to meet with the sainted 
objects and witnesses of its occupation, when 
it goes forth to ponder, to remember, and to 
weep." 

This imaginary reanimation of the ashes of 
the dead seems, in like manner, to occasion and 
to account for the desire of the living to be 
gathered, whenever their own final hour shall 
have arrived, to their family burying-place, to 
the long home of their fathers. Bury me, says the 
Patriarch Jacob to his children, bury one in the 
cam of Machpelah :— there they buried Abraham 
and Sarah his wife ;— there they buried Isaac and 
Rebekah his wife; — and there I buried Leah*. 
Entreat me not to leave thee, said Ruth to her 
mother-in-law, — and who does not perceive 
the delicacy of the request t—for where thou 
goest I will go; and where thou diest I will die \ 
and there will I be buried f. 

f Gen. xlix. 31. f Ruth, i. 2%, 

■2. ■ 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR ERIENDS. 263 

But whether the custom of honouring, and 
the pensive pleasure derived from visiting, the 
still remains of the dead, may be traced to the 
delusion to which we have here ascribed them, 
or simply to our love of consecrating and fre- 
quenting scenes, which easily recall, by associa- 
tion, many tender remembrances to the mind, 
it is pleasing to learn, from Scriptural ex- 
amples, thus satisfactorily confirming the voice 
of nature, that the voice of nature, in the pre- 
sent instance, is not to be stifled or opposed. 

Satisfied then, that there is, at least, no im- 
propriety, in reverencing and cherishing the 
memory of our lost friends, let us proceed to 
inquire in what respects these solemn exercises 
may be rendered advantageous, — in addition to 
their being pleasurable. 

I. It is obvious, that the first lesson taught 
us at the graves of our companions, is the bre- 
vity and precariousness of the present shadowy 
existence, and the awful termination of it, to 
which we are all fast hastening. Were they, 
to whose tombs you carry the tribute of remem- 
brance, arrested in the beginning of their 
earthly career, or in the health and strength 
of manhood? — and will you not learn to distrust 
the delusive promises held out by the bloom of 
vouth, anjd the vigour of maturity? — Did the 



566 



SERMON XIV. 



objects of your sorrow drop in full old age, 
Jike a shock of corn when it is ripe?— and can 
you fail to reflect that the most protracted life 
is but a span ; — and that all the sublunary plea- 
sures which sparkle in your eyes, and excite 
your ardent wishes, must be relinquished in 
fourscore years ; — a brief period, a vapour, and 
a vanity at the best; — yet part of it with all 
of us,— great part of it with many, already 
elapsed, — and the scanty remainder rapidly 
rolling away. 

By this wise consideration of our latter end, 
the necessity of preparation for it will natu^ 
rally be suggested. Hark, sons of mortality, 
to the warning voice, which, issuing forth 
from the recesses of the tomb, while it re- 
minds you that you have here no continuing 
city, persuasively adds, Be ye therefore ready * . 
These narrow cells, to which you love to re- 
sort, will speedily become the receptacles of 
ygur own bodies, as well as of those you have 
recently committed to them. Your spirits, 
like the spirits of the deceased, will go to live 
for ever; — but whether in happiness or in per- 
petual pain, — whether in the society of the 
pure or of the wicked, is in great measure, and 
is now, at your own disposal. A learned and 
devout Prelate of our church, while in a beau- 
* ££eb. xiii. 14. and Luke, xh\ 40, 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 

tiful epitaph inscribed to the memory of his 
daughter, he consoles his mind with hopes of 
immortal bliss, introduces this caution, which 
every one ought well to remember, — " provided 
only that I be found worth) 7 ." It is . needful 
that we should walk according to the law of 
the Gospel, if we desire to enjoy its promises. 
And strong is that motive to faith and to holi- 
ness, w r hich, while we are giving way to the 
more amiable feelings of nature, in lamenting 
those friends of whom we have been bereaved, 
reminds us, that to the region where they now 
are fixed, the unbelieving and disobedient never 
can approach. 

II. In honouring the remains, then, of such 
objects of esteem, let us assist our preparation 
for that eternity to which we are destined to 
follow, by recounting their good qualities, and 
comparing their dispositions with our own. 
Has the youth attained any portion of that 
steady virtue, that respectable sedateness, or 
that meek piety, which encircled as w r ith rays 
of glory the head of his venerated and sainted 
parent? Does the husband study to imitate 
those gentler graces, which qualified the mother 
of his infants for the society of angels? Does 
the widow strive to copy that strict principle, 
that correct propriety, that sober prudence, §p 



SERMON XIV. 



any other rigid and dignified virtue, of which 
sorrow may have fixed a well-known portrait 
in her soul? Unless accompanied by such 
comparisons and applications, unavailing to 
ourselves as to the friends whom we deplore, 
are the bitterest tears which water the borders 
of the grave. But, 

III. While we resolve to imitate, by the grace 
•of God, whatever is pure, and honest, and of 
good report in the characters of departed friends, 
let memory be no less faithful and minute, in 
her private register of their faults. The best 
have not lived without their faults : and how- 
ever fitting it may be that decency or charity 
should veil, or extenuate the, offences of the 
dead, when their characters are canvassed in 
society, it is equally expedient, that, in our 
secret contemplations, we should bring them 
back to view precisely as they were. We are 
but too prone to overlook in our companions, 
when they are no more, those failings which 
Ave had been accustomed to palliate during their 
lives. Our remembrances are only eulogies 
and too frequently agreeable delusions ;-r-while 
fond affection shrinks from the representations 
of truth, as if they were indelicacy or injury to 
the departed. But however cold and invidious 
may prove the employment of drawing back 
from, thejr dark abode the frailties of those we 



OX HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 9&9 

love, the Christian instructor is strongly called 
upon to enforce it, lest extravagant attachment 
should begin by consecrating, and unhappily 
end in imitating misdoings, which reason and 
religion pronounce deserving of being shunned. 

Recollecting, that if our deceased brethren 
could return to the precincts of day, there are 
defects which they would doubtless alter in 
their conduct, let us avail ourselves of the op- 
portunities of which they are deprived. Con- 
sidering that their failings have, in every pro- 
bability, shorn away a beam from the brightness 
of their glory, and abated that eternal hap- 
piness, which, through the extension of mercy, 
they enjoy— -(alas ! what if some of them, pre- 
suming too far on that mercy, be altogether 
self-excluded from part or lot in the inheritance 
of saints?) — let us improve the precious mo- 
ments which Providence hath yet assigned to 
us, that we may withdraw our eternal station 
as little as may be, from the throne of God, the 
fountain of felicity, — and treasure what we can 
of that rich reward, which is promised to our 
faith, and measured by our exertions. 

To accomplish this end, it will, in all cases, 
be beneficial, to withdraw attention from the 
worthiest of fallen and imperfect men, to the 
great and excellent Standard of Christian holi- 



270 



SERMON XIV. 



ness, the Author and Finisher of our faith 
who alone is incapable of misleading as a pat- 
tern, because in him alone " was there found 
no blame." 

IV. By these reflections I am led to notice 
particularly, what I have above slightly adverted 
to, the great doctrine of a general resurrection 
of the dead, as another topic worthy of em- 
ploying the thoughts of mourners, while they 
are bending over the sepulchres of their friends. 
A subject this, on which natural religion had 
formed to itself a few faint and plausible sur- 
mises and conjectures :— but as these were 
rather the desires of affection, the dreams and 
fictions of sorrow, than infallible conclusions 
or authorized assurances, they would be often 
$tript of all their power to administer consola- 
tion, by the simple view of a cemetery. There 
affection, with a sad and pensive remem- 
brance, would clasp the marble, or gaze upon 
the monument, as all that remained of its plea- 
sures. While it wandered forth amidst the 
dreary receptacles of the departed, and beheld 
their bodies resolved into their original ele- 
ments, or the ghastly and fleshless scull cast up 
b} T the spade, — a chilling terror would be struck 
into the heart, by that awful scene of stillness, 
desolation, and ruin. All subtle reasonings, 
and all fond wishes, as - to the probability of 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 371 



resuscitated animation, would fall before the 
disheartening but natural question,- — Can breath 
return to bodies thus demolished and dissolved? 
Can these dry bones, these crumbling ashes live * ? 
Shall the dead, O God! arise and praise thee? 
Shall thy loving kindness be declared in the grave> 
and thy faithfulness in destruction^? From this 
condition of tormenting apprehension, and 
gloomy despondence, the world has been fully 
delivered by the light of revelation. For sure as 
Christ himself hath arisen from the dead, — sure 
as competent witnesses who relate that won- 
derful event, have laid down their lives in at- 
testation of their veracity, — so sure is it that 
God, who hath raised zip Christ, will raise up us 
also by the word of his power % ;— so sure, that 
all who are in the graves shall hear the voice of 
the Son of Man, and come forth §. 

V. But, admitting that they whom we have 
lost shall arise, a doubt may still surest itself, 
whether they may be restored to us. And of 
the kind intentions of Providence in this respect, 
it will not, I presume, be difficult to present 
proofs (as an additional theme of meditation),, 
satisfactory to sober judgment, and powerfully 
consolatory to sorrow. The general consent 
of nations in the opinion referred to; — those 

* Ezek. xxxvii. 3. f Psalm viii. 10, 11. 

% I Cor. vi. I4r: § John, v. 28. 



£72 



SERMON' XIV- 



anxious expectations of reunion so dear to the: 
human breast, expectations which the Deity can- 
not well be supposed to have implanted, without 
intending to crown them with their object; — the 
very nature of virtuous intercourse, which is pure 
and celestial ; — our certainty of the future ex- 
istence of the different ingredients — (of our own 
immortal spirits, and of those of our friends) — • 
necessary to constitute this species of enjoy- 
ment ; and the difficulty of assigning a reason 
why God should separate them in ignorance, or 
exclude them from a participation, of the hap- 
piness enjoyed by each other; — these considera- 
tions, when all gathered together, seem argu- 
ments of no trifling weight, in favour of the 
doctrine we are endeavouring to establish. Con- 
siderable stress might further be laid on the 
manifest earnestness with which the sacred pen* 
men have laboured to prove the resurrection of 
the.BODv: especially in that celebrated portion 
of St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, 
which has been inserted in our Burial Service : 
— since it is difficult to ascertain wherefore 
such pains should be employed, to assure the 
disciples of Christ that they shall be clothed 
with glorified bodies, unless that solace might 
arise amidst the separations of the present 
scene, from the belief that Providence, in se- 
curing a future personal individuality, must 
have designed a renewal of mutual knowledge, 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 2^3 

and of personal friendship, for individuals 
whom it had dissevered upon earth. 

But besides these intimations derived from 
reason, and from the general scope and tenour 
of the inspired volume, particular passages can 
in no scanty number be collected, speaking, 
more expressly, to the same effect. If Christ 
told his Apostles that they should be with him 
where he was ascending *, can we rightly sup- 
pose them to be there deprived of the power of 
knowing their former Master^ and one another? 
If we are surrounded by a cloud of spirits of 
just men made perfect f, must not these just men 
dwell in one holy fraternity ? Is not Lazarus 
described as reclining on the bosom of Abra- 
ham X ? Did not tne King of Israel pacify him- 
self under the loss of his child, in the remark- 
able words, — I shall go to him, though he 
cannot return to me||? Does not St. Paul ac- 
quaint the Thessalonian believers, that they 
should rest together with him, when the Lord 
should be again revealed with all his holy 
angels^"? From these and similar passages, 
may it not be confidently concluded, that all 
those ties of virtuous friendship and concord, 
which had been, on earth, cut violently asunder 

* John, xiv. 3. f Heb. xii. 23. 

% Luke, xvi. 23. |J 2 Sara. xii. 23. 

f 2 Thess. i. 7. 



$74i SERMON XIV. 

by the hand of death, will be again knit toge- 
ther indissolubly in futurity ? — and may we not 
reasonably pronounce, that in the summary and 
rule of our faith, prescribed in the Apostles' 
creed, the communion of saints has been an- 
nexed to the resurrection of the dead, and to 
everlasting life, with propriety, as to its kin- 
dred doctrines ? 

VI. Finally then, let us learn, amongst the 
abodes of the departed, the reasonable and proper 
use of this world. A view of these silent and 
dreary mansions, indeed, naturally tends to 
withdraw the soul from an immoderate attach- 
ment to sublunary objects. When they for 
whose sakes life was chiefly desirable, are taken 
away, and our eyes have ceased to behold them, 
some of those silver cords are loosened, which 
bind us to this place of our enchantment. The 
world now dwindles in its apparent magnitude, 
and attracts less of our notice and affections. 
In a land of strangers, and bereft of its props 
and reliances, the soul prepares to plume its 
wing, that it may fly away and be at rest *. Our 
conversation is happily elevated by our wishes, 
to the vast field in which it ought to expatiate, 
and we pant with greater earnestness after our 
proper home, as we perceive more and more of 
our treasures removed to it. Our inducements 
* Psalm Iv. & 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. £75 



to climb the ladder, which in the vision of faith 
appears let down from Heaven, are multiplied, 
as glorified beings with whose looks we are fa- 
miliar, ascend and desend in greater numbers. 
These, — brethren in hope,— are salutary im- 
pulses, when obeyed with prudence and mo- 
deration. But beware of abandoning the indis- 
pensable duties of life, when weaning the heart 
from excessive fondness for its vanities. Thus 
acting, bow in silence before that Supreme Dis- 
poser, in whose hands are the issues of life as 
well as of death * ; who in the dispensation 
which you deplore, hath only resumed what he 
lent ; and who is able with a word,— *-and who 
designs, — to restore it yet again. 

To conclude — From this prudent and principled 
economy of sorrow, — from so chastened an in- 
dulgence of the better affections of the soul,—* 
you may reasonably hope to return from each 
visit to the place of graves, more devout and 
more virtuous, as well as more composed. But 
if there be any who repair thither only in order 
to bewail, what they impiously deem an irre- 
parable loss ; to look wildly on the wreck of 
enjoyments, which, with unbelieving hearts, 
they tell themselves are for ever past ; to weep 
over the departed as if they were vainly con- 
ceived to be the eternal tenants of their dark 
* Psalm lxviii, 2Q> 
T % 



%76 



SERMON XIV. 



abodes then, to such sorrowers as men 
without hope*, it becomes proper to address the 
rebuke of the heavenly messenger — Why seek 
ye the living among the dead? If there be any 
who waste the precious season of probation by 
too protracted, — -or criminally shorten it by too 
impassioned recollections; who devote to idle 
musings, and romantic sensibilities, and ima- 
ginary conversations at the tomb, a dispropor- 
tionate share of that attention which is due to 
their families, and to friends who yet remain : — 
any, who industriously tear open the wound, 
which God and time would heal, neither chiding 
the feet that love to linger near the haunts of 
sorrow, nor the soliloquy that fondly hangs on 
the minutest remembrances of the past; — by 
these, in a different, though not less empha- 
ticai meaning, is the same admonition deserv- 
ing of being recollected : "Away, and do good 
to those who need your succour : away to the 
living; — your business is not to trifle among 
the dead." 

Had I the power to reveal the invisible world; 
could I here draw aside the veil which hides the 
things eternal from our senses ; and show to 
one, an infant, to another, a parent, to ano- 
ther ? a friend ; — they would doubtless appear 
saying, with countenances beaming benignity, 

» 1 Thessal iv, 13, 



ON HONOURING THE GRAVES OF OUR FRIENDS. 277 



but with the gentle chiding of immortals,*- 
Some indulgence of regret is natural, it is be- 
coming ; — some short suspension of worldly 
occupations is pardonable. It will profit you in 
your preparation for a more exalted state. Come, 
on each returning first day of the week, with 
your sweet spices of remembrance ; and bedew 
our ashes with your tearful offerings of affec- 
tion. Come, and answer to the air as it sighs 
over the grass, which covers our lowly dwell- 
ing: — and listen once more in imagination to 
the voices, which but yesterday you knew so 
well. But see that these effusions and fond in- 
dulgences of sorrow be tempered by reason 
and religion. Awhile are we permitted to 
watch around your path, that w T e may impart to 
you a salutary warning, and intimate the in- 
telligence of truth. Be not deceived ; we are 
risen. The stone is rolled away from the 
mouth of the sepulchre *. Behold the spot 
where we lay. The soul is not the tenant of 
the dismal vault, or covered by the hillock of 
earth. There our ashes are alone now left j and 
while dust has been mingled with its native 
dust, the light-winged spirit has returned unto 
its original home. While you vainly wander 
in this place of tombs, and love to mourn 
over our insensible remains, — that part of 
us which knows, and remembers, and feels, 

* Matt, xxviii. 2, 

T 3 



175 SZRMOy XIV, 

is settled in its sphere, and finds its eter- 
nal occupation, in extolling the praises, and 
enjoying the presence of God. Beyond the 
reach of pain, beyond the flight of imagina- 
tion, we are entered into peace; — we are taken 
from the evil to come. Our difficulties, our 
struggles, are for ever over. Ours is now the 
palm of triumph, and the garment of purity. 
Weep not then for us : but weep for 3-ourselves*; 
— and weep not for your loss, but for your un- 
worthiness to follow. Hence, and surrender 
the soul to God. Depart; — and whatsoever 
the hand findeth to do, let it be accomplished 
ere the hastening shade of evening descend f . 
Thus, whether your bodies shall be deposited 
in the grave with ours: whether they may be ap- 
pointed to perish in the waters, or to be scat* 
tered in their dust to every corner of the globe; 
yoar souls will be gathered unto your relatives 
and friends : — they shall enter into our glory ; 
— they shall partake of our rest : and in a spi- 
ritual communication, more intimate, and more 
pure, than can be conceived by flesh and blood, 
W here we are, there ye shall be also 

* Luke, xxiii. 23. f Ycdes. ix. 10. J John, xiv. 3, 



£7S> 



SERMON XV. 

ON READING, 



ACTS, CHAP. XIX. VERSE 1$. 

Many of them also which used curious arts brought 
their books together, and burned them before all 
men ; and they counted the price of them, and 
found them fifty thousand pieces of silver. 

In the infancy of society knowledge was com- 
municated, chiefly, through the medium of oral 
instruction. When the aged Patriarch* deli- 
vered to his children, or to a popular assembly, 
the results of his long experience, he was re- 
garded and listened to with almost superstitious 
veneration, because wisdom could be gathered 
no where but from his lips. This mode of 
teaching, however, was speedily discovered to 
be subject to several very material disadvan- 
tages. The information which it imparted 
was, primarily, confined to a narrow circle of 
auditors ; and even by these it was liable to be 

* Job, xxix. 8. 
Note — Want of room prevents the author from fulfilling 
his original intention of subjoining a list of books proper for 
a general library, to this discourse. 

T 4 



280 



SERMON XV. 



misunderstood, to be imperfectly learned, to be 
quickly forgotten. It could not easily be ar- 
rested as it was uttered, with a view to the 
patient investigation of its accuracy :— nor 
could it embrace many topics of calculation or 
of research, which although highly useful, 
would not, in delivery, be comprehended, or 
relished, by the generality of hearers. To re- 
medy these defects, the important art of 
writing, either by means of symbols or of let- 
ters, was invented. When wise rnen died, they 
left their wisdom in books, as a rich legacy to 
posterity; — and numerous are the volumes of 
that wisdom which antiquity has transmitted. 
If so early as the days of Solomon it could be 
said with truth, that of writing of books there 
was no end # , the assertion, or rather the com- 
plaint, may, with infinitely greater justice, be 
made in these latter times of the world, when 
such repositories of knowledge have continued 
to accumulate as centuries have rolled on, and 
when the art of multiplying and cheapening 
copies by means of printing, has placed them 
in almost every hand. 

An acquaintance with literature now demands 
no trifling allotment of time and attention from 
the higher and middle ranks of society; nor even 
among the labouring classes is it altogether 

* Eccles xii. 12, 



ON READING. 



281 



unknown. Books are not merely luxuries, but 
necessaries of life. Some species or other of 
these vehicles of intelligence, forms a dally 
bread to most educated minds. 

Now, since in that prodigious and endless 
multiplicity of books, with which every part 
of the civilized world abounds, some are good, 
and others indifferent; — some edifying, and 
some pernicious; — a judicicious selection of 
such as seem deserving of our own perusal, and 
of being placed in the hands of those to whom 
we wish well, must doubtless be of essential 
moment to morality and happiness. To parents 
and guardians of youth, I am well persuaded, 
few considerations can be more pregnant with 
anxiety: — but to hearers in general, the sub- 
ject, I think, must be interesting. Life being 
short and extremely precarious, while business 
and other avocations occupy no inconsiderable 
portion of that limited and uncertain space, it 
must surely be useful to learn how the leisure 
left for reading admits of being the most pro- 
fitably employed. And our dispositions and 
characters being ever deeply tinctured by the 
nature of the ideas which we usually imbibe, 
all who place a value on their immortal spirits 
must be concerned in discovering what ideas, 
coming through the medium of study, it is de- 
sirable to receive, and what deserve to be 



282 SERMON XV. 

avoided. For these reasons I have thought 
proper to turn my own meditations to a subject 
thus momentous, actuated by the humble hope 
of being not unserviceable in directing yours, 
Happy, shall I at this time prevail with any 
individual, to imitate the honourable converts 
mentioned in my text, who brought their per- 
nicious books together, and burned them in the 
sight, or for the example, of all men. 

On this, as on every other subject of educa- 
tion, or branch of duty, the remarks of a 
Christian teacher ought, unquestionably, all to 
proceed on the great Christian doctrine of the 
natural depravity of man. We are to take it 
for granted in the outset, that the evil inclina- 
tions in the human breast are naturally far 
stronger than the virtuous tendencies; that 
divine grace is needful as a corrective of this 
condition; and that it is our consequent duty 
to shun, on the one hand, whatever may ob- 
struct, and on the other, to seek whatever is 
likely to favour, the descent of this blessed and 
necessary help. 

I. These fixed principles, then, being held 
steadily in view, it is obvious to remark, that 
booms of piety ought to occupy some part of 
the time allotted by us for reading. Moral phi- 
losophers, after laying down the principle, that 



OX READING. 



283 



idleness is the parent of transgression, and in- 
ferring from it that harmless or rational employ^ 
ment will prove alone a sufficient safeguard of 
virtue, have confined their admonitions respect- 
ing such a course of reading, as has for its ob- 
ject the cultivation of morality, to recommend- 
ing; the dedication of the hours of leisure to 
the perusal of compositions addressed to the 
intellect and the fancy : and, as secondary op- 
ponents to temptation, we deny not (we shall 
presently indeed have occasion to observe more 
fully), that such works are admissible, and highly 
profitable. But if they beheld up as the sole 
resistance to that powerful enemy, — any who 
consider that employment itself has its dangers, 
— who remember that man, in his natural con- 
dition, is at once assailed by external circum- 
stances, and by his own traitorous breast, can- 
not entertain a moment's doubt as to their 
weakness. No relish, indeed, however eager, 
for the pleasures of the mind ; no engagement, 
however deep, in intellectual researches, can 
supply the absence of religious principle and 
occupation, as the great safeguard of morality-. 
The first practical rule, then, which I would 
offer, with regard to reading, is, that each re- 
volving day should commence and close with 
the perusal of a certain portion of the sacred 
writings. These, says the Apostle concerning 
the Berean disciples, were more noble than 



'384 



SERMON XV. 



those of Thessalonica — in that they searched 
the Scriptures daily*. This practice faithfully 
observed, arid settled into a habit, will keep 
alive the spirit of devotion in the mind, which 
is too apt to be secularized by ordinary studies; 
and impart a seriousness and solidity to those 
pleasurable feelings, which even the most 
harmless recreations, when not thus guarded, 
are apt to elevate into the effervescence of 
levity. An employment thus salutary, will 
moreover be found not altogether unproductive 
of delight Be assured, you will find it plea- 
sant, before going forth to your daily labour, 
to contrast the quiet, the repose, the benevo- 
lence of religion, with the noise, and jostlings, 
and selfishness of that crowd, among which 
you are about to mingle. So again in the even- 
ing, when you return weary with the business, 
— disquieted with beholding the sinfulness, — or 
ruffled by exposure to the crosses, the anxieties, 
and perplexities of life, — how soothing to tran- 
quillize and to pillow the soul for a while, in 
appropriating the praises uttered by the holy 
Psalmist; in accompanying the beneficent pil- 
grimage of the blessed Saviour; in reviewing 
the consolatory promises of God, and throwing 
yourself forward into that blessed state, where 
all is purity and unsullied enjoyment ! Here 
remorse finds a promise of forgiveness to the 

* Acts, xvii. 11. 



ON READING. 



penitent, written in the blood of Christ : here 
affliction approaches a well of living waters, 
where, drinking, it will thirst no more. Youth 
prepares for itself a shield and a stay, against 
the vicissitudes, the difficulties, the dangers 
and snares unto which it is destined : — and age 
discovers a charter of its inheritance beyond the 
tomb; — a Pisgah, which it may ascend to be- 
hold its land of rest, and learn to depart in 
peace*. 

* To the perusal of the Sacred Volume it is necessary to 
advance with awe — We should cast off the shoes of worldly 
affections, and divest our minds of inconsiderate heedlessness, 
remembering that we tread the precincts of holy ground, 
(Exod. iii. 5.) Let us beseech God to cast his sunshine upon 
the dial ; to illuminate with his grace the volume of salva- 
tion j nor less to open the eyes of our understandings, that we 
may clearly see, and obey the wonderous things of his law. 
(Psalm cxix. 18.) Let us read more with an humble wish 
for edification in the faith, than with a view to gratify the vain 
curiosity of research, or to foster the proud spirit of disputa- 
tiousness j desiring the sincere milk of the word, (l Pet. ii. 
2.) By reading the sacred book of truth progressively, and 
in pursuance of a fixed and regular plan, we shall avoid the 
error of regarding the facts as unconnected with each other* 
or the precepts as a collection of loose detached aphorisms. 
Viewing it as a great whole, we shall contemplate each pas- 
sage as being a stone in a mighty arch ; — a branch in a large 
tree j — a limb in a body, to which there is a corresponding 
limb ; — a piece which fits into a vast machine, and in the ab- 
sence of which something essential would be wanting. In 
.the account of the creation of man in happiness; of his 
temptation and expulsion from paradise j of the gradual unfold- 
ing of prophecies relating to the I^Xessiahj of the Levitical 



286 



SERMON 5CV. 



In addition to the Bible, there are other 
volumes of piety well meriting a considerable 



institutions, types, and ordinances referring to the same august 
and blessed Personage— of his appearance, life, crucifixion, 
death, and resurrection— of the subsequent apostolic miracles 
wrought — effusions of divine grace bestowed — sufferings un- 
dergone — epistles penned— and a final prophetic revelation 
vouchsafed, we shall trace the origin, developement, and pro- 
gress towards accomplishment of one magnificent, compre- 
hensive, and wonderful plan for raising the human race from 
the ruins of a first fall j for preserving them from a second, 
and a more deplorable lapse ; for rendering them wise, good, 
and eternally happy. Thus, the whole body, fitly joined to- 
gether, and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, 
tnaketh increase of itself unto the edifying that is in Christ 
(Eph. iv. id.) 

Such awful information, we must needs acknowledge, de- 
serves not to be glanced over in a cursory manner, or perused 
in a listless or wandering frame of mind. Search the Scrip- 
tures, is the injunction cf our Saviour (John, v. 39) : and 
to search must mean more than to skim the surface, or to dip 
into the contents. — It is to read, to mark, to learn, and in- 
wardly to digest. It is deeply to ponder, thoroughly to exa^ 
mine, and patiently to meditate. It is, above all, to make 
.spiritual and particular application of the truths and t precepts 
which we there find delivered, to the state of our own souls j 
to ask ourselves, whether we have been guilty of the vices 
reprobated, or have cultivated any of the virtues extolled } 
whether we have repented, and sought reconciliation in the 
manner which these sacred documents prescribe 5 whether, 
agreeably to their mandates, we rely on the divine succour, 
and perceive ourselves to be growing in holiness and true 
wisdom. It is to place the example of our Lord and Master 
before us 3 to cultivate and cherish that temper of love, that 
peace of mind, that harmony of the affections, the air of the 



ON READING. 28? 

share of your attention : — such, for example, 
as are needful to elucidate its information, by 
commentary, interpretation, and paraphrase ; — • 
by methodizing its facts, and explaining its 
geography and antiquities; — such as represent 
to reason and conviction the evidences in favour 
of the truth of Christianity; as illustrate its 
doctrines, or record its history as a church ; — 
not forgetting those which more immediately 
point to the grand object, for the sake of which 
the others are chiefly recommended, — a life of 
faith and repentance, of piety, and of active 
obedience. I shall only for the present add, 
under this head of discourse, that next to the word 
of God, such books appear especially to be the 
proper employment of the morning and evening 
hours of the Sabbath : of which solemn day, 
I hesitate not to pronounce, it is some profana- 
tion to dedicate any the slightest portion to or- 
dinary intellectual culture; more particularly 
in the case of those to whom ample opportuni- 
ties are afforded, for this latter species of appli- 
cation, during the week. 



highest heavens, which the religion of Jesus breathes, and 
which it was his benevolent purpose to diffuse. It is, in one 
word, to consider the sacred writings as profitable for doctrine, 
for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness j 
and as given that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly 
furnished unto all good works, and wise unto salvation. (2 Tim, 
in. 16.) 



V 



288 



SERMON XV. 



II. These observations have superseded the 
necessity for my dwelling with minuteness on 
the next description of reading demanding 
notice; — I mean the consultation of books ad- 
dressed to the understanding : — books of history 
and philosophy ; of fact and argument. We 
are, certainly* not required to devote all our 
hours to religion, or to confine the range of our 
application, exclusively, to religious writings. 
The great scheme of education embraces a wide 
circle of science ;— and to the moderate pur- 
suit of all its various departments* the strictest 
Christian may without harm or blame addict 
himself. Such pursuits indeed may, with safety, 
be pronounced, not merely harmless, but emi- 
nently conducive to morality. By introducing 
a taste for intellectual pleasures, they much 
abate the force of sensual appetite. By pro- 
viding for the mind a fund of solid employment, 
they prevent the encroachment of that variety 
of temptations, which are incidental and fatal 
to vacuity: — as the soil pre-occupied with 
healthy and useful plants is preserved secure 
from weeds. Intellectual pursuits may be fur- 
ther recommended as tending to instil a so- 
briety of thinking, highly favourable and closely 
allied to religious habits : — an examining fore- 
cast, a practice of connecting causes and ef- 
fects, which is frequently found to resist the 
aggression of temptation, by applying its ge- 



ON READING. 



289 



neral habits of reflection, and maxims of judg- 
. ment, to a consideration of the remote evil 
consequences of indulgence. These studies 
form a domestic and contemplative disposition : 
■ — rendering the mind independent on the fri- 
volous circles of gay society, or the more pe- 
rilous haunts of public amusement, for its re- 
creation from employment, or its relief from 
languor. They impart to their votaries both a 
fitness and a predilection for the society of the 
wise, the grave, and the respectable : — while 
any who are unacquainted with them are, for 
the most part, observed to betake themselves to 
a participation in the noisy revelry of licen- 
tious, or in the idle folly of frivolous associates. 
Among the praises of intellectual research it is 
not the least, that it supplies materials for in- 
nocent, if not profitable conversation : pre- 
cluding the necessity of recurring for topics of 
discourse, to slander, frivolity, or indelicacy,— 
those constant and melancholy resources of the 
vacant mind. To persons also unfortunate in 
irritable dispositions, or endued with keen sen- 
sibility, it will serve as a wholesome counter- 
action of the natural temperament; — correcting 
violence by the frequent exercise of reasoning; 
and blunting too nice a susceptibility of feeling, 
by employments which tend to elevate the judg- 
ment above the imagination. Such studies are 



290 



SERMON XV. 



surely much more suitable to beings endowed with 
reason, and distinguished from the inferior ani- 
mals by peculiar privileges, than the low occu- 
pations, which, if these were absent, would 
supply their place in the attention and affec- 
tions. They prevent all occasion for liaving 
recourse, through idleness, — they in a great 
measure wean the mind from a desire to have 
recourse, to reading, of either a pernicious or 
a trifling description. To these remarks I 
cannot refrain from adding, that well-disposed 
minds must derive unfeigned satisfaction from 
observing, that the mental improvement of the 
gentler sex has engaged particular attention in 
modern systems of education; since all the 
advantages now recounted have a further ten- 
dency, in their case, to elevate the morality, 
and to enlarge the happiness of families, by 
drawing closer the tie which binds man to his 
partner, in assimilating their minds, and re- 
fining their endearments ; — as well as by ren- 
dering the mother more useful and expert in 
conducting the education of her child. 

On these accounts I deem it not improper for 
the Christian minister to recommend an atten- 
tion to intellectual improvement ;-^to propose a 
well-chosen selection of books in History and 
Biography ; in Moral Philosophy, and in Na- 
tural Science;— to introduce Knowledge and 

2 



ON READING. 

Reason to the notice of his hearers, as hand- 
maids of Piety, and as inferior means of grace. 

All along, however, it is proper to keep in 
mind, that mental pursuits are still to be pre- 
ceded and accompanied,— to be guided and hal- 
lowed by religious application. This is that 
grace before the course of intellectual food, 
which converts it to spiritual use and nourish- 
ment. For if intellectual studies be permitted 
by us to retain an uncorrected and undivided 
empire over the mind, it is not to be concealed 
that they will produce sufficient evil, nearly to 
counterbalance all their boasted advantages. 
From the secret sense of mental superiority 
which they confer, will be generated a proud 
and overbearing spirit ; — a dangerous disposi- 
tion, which, while it tramples upon men, is not 
far from haughtily exalting itself against God. 
Eager to monopolize the praise of his own acquire- 
ments, the irreligious scholar hastens to deny the 
particular providence, and to dispute the authority 
of the Great Bestower of his qualifications. One 
Christian doctrine is dismissed after another; — 
the divinity of the Saviour, — the power of his 
atonement, — the influences of the Spirit,— are 
all successively summoned before the tribunal 
of arrogant talent, and condemned. Such pre- 
judices, gaining strength, will lead on, in course 



2£)£ SERMON XV, 

of time, to other vain speculations on the acci- 
dental formation, and high unscriptural an- 
tiquity of the globe ; — on the mechanism of the 
soul ; — or on the supposed descent of the human 
race from various parent stocks ; — concerning all 
which, humble, unsophisticated faith, and calm 
reason informed by revelation, and not warped 
by pride, would never have entertained a doubt. 
Ere long passion corrupts the intellectual guards, 
who are set to keep watch around the moral 
principle; and the proud son of science, desti- 
tute of internal purity, of honest conscience, 
and of any solid foundation of virtue, derives 
from his stores of knowledge and his improved 
mental ability, only the power of throwing 
a flimsy, but fallacious,, colouring over the 
naked deformity of his licentiousness; — of 
wrapping up falsehood in ingenious sophistry ; 
— -of making a vicious appear an excusable or 
proper conduct ; — of concealing from himself 
and from his brethren his real condition; — in 
short, of palliating depravity with plausible 
defences, and of decking it out in the fascina- 
tions of refinement* 

It will be further advisable, in the acquisition 
of intellectual knowledge, to mingle in no small 
degree, meditation with reading. As the or- 
dinary food of man is designed by the Creator 
to repair his exhausted strength, and to adapt 
2 



ON READING, 29$ 

him for the resumption of his labour, he who 
pampers and gluts his intellectual appetite by 
devouring more than can well be arranged in 
his mind, or converted to the wise end of bene- 
fiting himself and others, may be regarded as 
the epicure or sluggard of the understanding. 
Lay aside your book, and commune with your 
own heart. — Understand I what I read * t and 
do I find it truly profitable? — Is the matter 
nearly, and in every distant bearing, reconcile- 
able to the doctrines and precepts of Chris- 
tianity h — How may its information be applied 
to the good of men ? — Does it furnish any re- 
flections morally useful to myself? — May it not 
assist in confirming my belief in immortality ? 
— supply natural proofs of the existence and 
providence of God? — or, in its lowest value, 
discover the imperfections of natural know- 
ledge? May I not learn from it, in contem- 
plating the vast powers of man, to adore the 
great Being, who is the bestower of these 
powers, or perhaps to lament that they have 
not, in the instance before me, been better em^ 
ployed, for the welfare of his creatures and the 
promotion of his glory ? Is there any thing in 
what I have been reading which perplexes, or 
endangers? — then, before I proceed further, 
let me seriously consider within myself, whe^ 
ther it will not be better to turn to some other 

* Acts, via, 30, 

V 3 



SERMON XV. 



study; — or, at least, let me pray for mental 
illumination ; — invoke moral principle to preside 
over my speculations; — and betake myself, with 
a teachable spirit for instruction, to the coun- 
sel of some prudent and upright friend. While 
I am here enjoying the selfish luxury of the 
understanding, have I been careful to allot a 
just and reasonable proportion of time to the 
discharge of my social and active charities? 
Never let me forget that my intellectual cul- 
ture ought principally to retain this essential 
object in view : — and let me cheerfully quit the 
chamber of seclusion and study, whenever a 
benevolent service waits to be performed. 

It will be further for my advantage to note 
the frequent distinction betwixt the professed 
object, and the general tendency of a book^ 
It may profess to inculcate some useful prin- 
ciple, while it actually unhinges belief, or sets 
all the passions in a flame. That book is ever 
the best, which excites in the mind an appetite 
for benevolence; — a hunger, whose cravings 
are intolerable, until they be satisfied by the 
performance of some act of duty or of kind* 
ness. 

In my admiration of the vast achievements, 
and the shining virtues recorded in the page of 
history, has the love of power, — has a passion 



ON READING, 



295 



for vain-glory insensibly possessed my breast: — 
or have I overlooked, as inconsiderable objects 
to a great mind aspiring after noble things, and 
emulous of single acts of heroism, the unosten- 
tatious, unpraised, unnoticed virtues of the 
shade, — the principle of integrity inviolable in> 
trifles, and those domestic duties, and that 
perennial suavity of disposition, which so often 
powerfully contribute towards the happiness of 
common life? 

III. But is the whole of the time, you will 
ask, appropriated to reading, to be engrossed by 
these more serious studies ; to be entirely di- 
vided betwixt religion and science ? Shall the 
mind at no time be permitted to unbend itself 
among the lighter pleasures which solicit its 
notice? From the amendment of the heart, 
and the culture of the understanding, can no 
moments be spared or allowed for relaxation, in 
wandering among the bowers of fancy? By 
no means. The blooming garden of taste is 
open to the Christian, not less than the ani- 
mating steep of science. From many of the 
preceding arguments, which appear to have 
fully warranted our permission and recom- 
mendation of scientific acquirements, we may 
likewise deduce the lawfulness, if not the expe? 
{Hence, of bestowing some share of attention, 
v 4 



296 



SERMON XV. 



on elegant literature. This general permission 
must, nevertheless, be understood as granted 
under strict limitations. Light reading, it 
must never be forgotten by us, is not properly 
study, but recreation ; and as such, must ever 
hold that subordinate place to the exercises of 
the heart and the understanding, which amuse- 
ment, in general, bears to serious business. 
Again, the child of mortality must consider the 
value of time. Remembering the brevity and 
insecurity of his days, and the ample variety 
of more serious acquisitions, added to the ex- 
treme difficulty of attaining them, — he ought 
to bring himself to require as little relief in 
lighter pursuits, as is consistent with bodily 
health, and with mental vigour. But the chief 
reason which should content the disciple of 
Jesus with a cautious and abstemious use of 
works of fancy, is the tendency of too many 
of them to encourage instead of thwarting, to 
cherish instead of suppressing, our inborn and 
latent principle of evil. Many writers, of 
splendid genius, it is true, have consecrated 
their endowments to the service of God ; have 
rendered the maxims of sacred truth, and the 
contemplations of pure devotion, more worthy 
of being styled the beauty of holiness. Like 
David, they have called their lyres and glory 
to awake in the praise of religion or virtue : 
and resolved that the statutes of the Bes tower 



ON READING. 



297 



of their gifts, should be their songs in the 
house of their pilgrimage*. Others there are, 
whose alluring productions, though less pro- 
fessedly calculated to promote the divine glory, 
deserve not to be totally condemned or over- 
looked. As affording a harmless employment 
and a pure delight; — as enriching the fancy, 
and improving the taste; — as thus enlarging 
the stock of innocent pleasures, and furnishing 
matter for conversation at once interesting and 
inoffensive ; — as investing mental pursuits with 
their proper supremacy over the appetites of 
sense; — inline, as useful, under divine aid, in, 
softening that asperity, refining that coarse- 
ness, and melting that insensibility, by which 
many tempers are distinguished, they may, un- 
less I judge rashly, be, with propriety, em- 
braced in the scope of ministerial recommenda- 
tions. But wherever passion is constitutionally 
violent, and the natural susceptibility of the 
feelings acute, I am regardless of obloquy, 
while I pronounce it as my candid opinion, — 
that almost all works of fancy whatever are 
pernicious, and ought to be carefully withheld 
from the eyes of youth. Does not prudence 
urge the necessity of counteracting that pro- 
pensity, which already hovers upon the borders 
of moral disease? When you encourage and 
foster it, by indulging your child or pupil in an 
* .Psalm lvii. 8. and cxix. 54. 



298 SERMON XV. 

unchecked perusal of works of imagination, are 
you not, with mistaken kindness, adding a 
steepness to the slope, a spark to the tinder, 
and wings to the whirlwind? Than such be- 
haviour in a parent or superintendent, with re- 
ference to a young mind, endued by nature 
with ardour or tenderness of disposition, what 
can be imagined more injudicious, more in- 
discreet, more cruel, or more criminal # ? 

Of works of fancy there is one denomina- 
tion, which the very general passion for it ob- 
servable in the present age compels me to single 
out for an amplified animadversion. You are 
already aware, I think I may conjecture, from 
the smile which plays upon the cheek of levity, 
that I allude to those fictitious representations 
of life and manners, with which many of those 
who hear me, I am sorry to express my fears, 
are but too deeply and too daily acquainted. 
That I may here avoid declamatory and unrea- 
sonable abuse, I shall guard my observations 
on the present head, in the outset, by making 
two admissions, which might, as I conceive, be 
deemed by all to be sufficiently liberal. First, 
to. a small number of these tales of fancy 
(though such exceptions are exceedingly few), 
the strictures to be offered may not be applicable 

* Sponte sua properant, labor est inhibere volentes, 

Oyiz>, 



OK READING, 



Z99 



in their full extent : — some, I will not deny, 
may be perused without danger ; some perhaps 
even with considerable improvement; — since 
they may fairly merit the character assigned 
them by an austere moralist, " of having taught 
the passions to move at the command of vir- 
tue." Secondly, a very wide distinction is to 
be observed betwixt a rare recourse to such 
literary gratifications, in a season of recreation, 
of anxiety, of despondence, or of bodily pain ; 
—and the abuse, the culpability, the vice of 
devoting to them some of the best hours of 
almost every day, in this our short, sole, so* 
lemn time of probation. 

Under these limitations I proceed to observe 
broadly, concerning fictitious and romantic 
narratives in general, that before an assemblage 
of Christian auditors, they cannot be men- 
tioned without marked disapprobation. It will 
not be denied, that the study of them is a waste 
of time; — for what, I would ask, is their or- 
dinary character? Is it not that of the most 
flimsy, frivolous, insignificant of performances? 
It is the natural tendency of novels, — (for why 
should I hazard being here misunderstood, by 
searching about for vain circumlocutions ?)-~ 
to indispose the mind for solid and serious ap- 
plication, for historical narrative, or philoso- 
phical disquisition ; — as the palate accustomed 



300 



SERMON XV. 



to high-seasoned delicacies soon loses all relish 
for plain and wholesome food. The hahit of 
devouring them is usually, indeed, progressive, 
beginning with the amusement of some vacant 
hour, and in the sequel engrossing the entire 
attention. It is no ordinary mind that can re- 
turn with facility, from the brilliant images 
and the fairy land of fiction, to the sober 
lights, and the rough soil, and the didactic 
plainness of truth. 

By volumes of romance, the imagination, 
that dangerous guide, is invested with a sove- 
reignty over the sober judgment : — the feelings 
placed above the reason of man. To the one 
sex is imparted an adventurous unsettled dispo- 
sition, unfavourable to the regular pursuit of an 
useful calling :— to the other an insatiable desire 
of attracting notice, a love of splendour and of 
stratagem, of brilliant accomplishment, and of 
public appearance, not less inimical to the meek 
and quiet ornament of solid qualities and do- 
mestic virtues. 

While a false sensibility is thus infused into 
the young breast, the acquaintance with coun- 
terfeit distress, which is opened by this course 
of reading, will inevitably prove destructive of 
genuine and useful feeling : — for not only does 
danger arise from the habit of separating thq 



ON READING. 



301 



sensation of sympathy from that active relief 
which it was implanted in the breast to prompt, 
and from which it ought on no occasion to be 
dissociated ; — but the real sorrows of life are 
usually found accompanied with circumstances 
of homeliness, sufficient to repel, in loathing 
and disgust, that fastidious taste, which has 
expatiated only amongst elegant and fancy- 
wrought afflictions. 

Still more unfavourable must be the tales 
of wild adventure to right impressions of 
religion; — creating that sickly propensity 
for being amused with flowers, and dissolved 
in tears, and interested by suspense, which 
rinds only insipidity in the once read narratives 
of Scripture, and turns away from the useful 
and awful doctrines of Christianity, as from 
learned subtleties and theological barbarisms, 
foreign to the refinement of a delicate and a 
polished mind. Many of these works make 
pretensions to a moral; — or, in different words, 
they convey some cold recondite maxim, which 
it is difficult to discover amidst a magazine of 
immorality, or, at best, a mass of unprofit- 
ableness. To administer an inflammatory potion 
with so weak a corrective, is to poison, for the 
sake of trying the experiment of an antidote ;— 
or wantonly to set fire to a temple, in the hopes 
of extinguishing the flames with a cup of 



302 



SERMON XV. 



water. In general, the real object is ex- 
clusively to please, no matter in what way that 
end shall be attained ; — and as the gentle reader, 
be sure, is the most effectually pleased by being- 
flattered in his errors, and soothed in his indul- 
gences, they are, for the most part, little else 
than an artful tissue of apologies for error, and 
palliatives of indulgence. Here you will see 
justice halting after generosity, — mental so- 
briety and seriousness stigmatized as enthu- 
siasm, — a regard for the Christian doctrines 
pronounced illiberal bigotry, — vice extenuated 
with the soft name of indiscretion, — artifice 
represented as the proof of superior understand- 
ing,— and, in fine, a spurious honour usurping 
the seat of faith, the only solid and stable prin- 
ciple of obedience. 

To fictitious histories it may yet further be 
objected, that the much-boasted fidelity of their 
resemblance to real life is perhaps their greatest 
evil. By exhibiting to admiration those mixed 
characters, that compound of vice and virtue 
which we usually encounter in society, an im- 
perfect standard of morality is established, 
which the unwary are but too prone to satisfy 
themselves with attaining, while they lose sight 
of the only safe and legitimate model, the 
blameless and faultless Son of the Most High. 



ON READING. 



303 



This lukewarm contenteclness with imper- 
fect obedience, will take the firmer hold in 
the minds of inexperienced readers, if repre- 
sented, and it is commonly represented, as 
the object of love, and praise, and remunera- 
tion in the present existence. Farewell then 
all remembrance of man's probationary con- 
dition ; — farewell all trust in Providence under 
adversity; — farewell the conviction that the 
recompenses of Heaven are, through the Sa- 
viour's mediation, proposed only to the holiness 
that is still purifying, still dissatisfied with its 
attainments; — to the light which, though it 
may never shine forth as the perfect day, is 
continually making nearer approaches to it. 
And in thus anticipating the allotments of fu- 
turity, one powerful argument of natural re- 
ligion in favour of an hereafter is defeated. 
Attachment is fixed on the present scene; 
and the motives are weakened for seeking 
with all the desires, affections, and energies of 
the soul, that state where alone true joys are to 
be found. 

In general, even the least exceptionable 
among novels are far from being orthodox 
in the religious principles they inculcate. The 
reclaimed transgressor makes his peace with 
God, by the Deism of an imperfect repent- 
ance, and not by the Christianity of faith and 



304 



SERMON XV. 



spiritual help, — of a death unto all sin, and a 
new birth unto all righteousness. In the mean 
time, nothing is more common with the more 
virtuous characters, than an irreverent use of the 
highest and noblest Narqe, on every trivial occa- 
sion of surprise or indignation, of joy or sor- 
row; or even of simple assertion or denial. 

Our time, I perceive, however, is far spent: 
— and though I had much more to offer on this 
fruitful and momentous subject, I am com- 
pelled here to draw my observations to a closec 

Since men transfer their minds to the pages 
which they write, the world, as long as it shall 
abound with vicious authors, will necessarily 
be filled with vicious publications. Hence a 
prudent and careful selection of those writers, 
with whose works you or yours are to cultivate 
a familiarity, becomes to you, my . friends, a 
matter of the utmost moment : for by indiscri- 
minately consulting all which are presented to 
your notice, you convert reading, which in ge- 
neral indicates, and, if well-regulated, would 
certainly establish, solidity of character and ele- 
vation above the baser appetites, into a dan- 
gerous engine for the murder of time, the de- 
struction of principle, and the tainting of 
purity*'. 

* If the motive indeed for reading be a desire of solid im- 
provement, a judicious selection of authors will be more 



ON READING. 



305 



" Evil communication corrupts good manners," 
is a maxim as applicable to books as to men : 
for what is the perusal of any volume, but 
acquaintance, intercourse, communication with 
the author? Hence, as the characters of men 
are inferred from those of their associates; — it 
will follow on the same principle, that the cha- 
racter of their library would furnish no less 
certain a key to their own. This would show 
accurately whether the disposition of the owner 
be pious, pure, grave, solid, active, — or scep- 
tical, sensual, frivolous, vain, indolent. Would 
you deem it then a disgrace to be found in the 
confidence of a person notorious for depraved 
or contemptible moral character? — think it 
equally dishonourable to retain in your posses- 
sion a book of which the principles are noxious. 
By one great and glorious victory over Satan, — 
by an effort truly worthy of a disciple of Jesus, 
let me entreat you to purify your repository of 
instruction: to gather, if I may so speak, the 
wheat into your garner, and to separate the 
chaff for the fire, , -— in plain language, to collect 
together all such productions as are in any way 
inimical to Christian faith, or to pure morals ; 
- — and although the computed price w r e re fifty 



effectually secured, than, when the object proposed is to enable 
vanity to discuss, in the circles of gav society, the merits of 
every novelty of the day. 



306 



SERMON XV. 



thousand pieces of silver, to burn them before 
all men. 

This destruction you owe to yourself and to 
your brethren ; — and not only to the present 
race, but to a generation yet unborn. For if, 
through your failure to deliver the world, as 
much as lies in your power, from so fruitful 
and poisonous a root of temptation, your child, 
your domestic, your neighbour, or any one of 
your posterity, shall, in time to come, be vitiated; 
at whom, I would ask, does the Gospel point 
its denunciations ? — Woe be to him who shall in- 
jure one of these little ones ; — or to him by whom 
offences come ; — verily I say unto you, it were 
far better for that man, that a mill-stone were 
hanged about his neck, and that he were cast into 
the sea # * 

At that awful tribunal before which we must 
all appear, and to which we are all so rapidly 
hastening forward, the two great questions to 
be proposed to us, , we may believe, are 
these : — First, " In what manner have you em- 
ployed the time of probation?" and secondly, 
" How did you. improve those means of grace, 
which Heaven vouchsafed to you during your 
earthly course?" Inconsiderate mortal! how 
acute will be thy compunction, how deep thy 
* Matt, xviii. 6, 7- • • 



OK READING. 



307 



dismay, how dreadful, and, alas! how well- 
grounded thy apprehensions, if to the former 
of these interrogatories thou shalt only be able 
to answer,—" That precious time which con- 
science and Scripture commanded me to devote 
to the diligent discharge of domestic duties, 
and to the solid improvement of my mind 
and heart, I have wasted ;- — foolishly, pro- 
fusely wasted, in dreaming over idle and un- 
profitable pages :" — and to the latter of them, 
— " All the proffered dispensations of grace, I 
have lived but to reject and to oppose : — their 
errand was to purify the soul ; — my studies and 
amusements have tended to corrupt it; — I have 
been long loosening the faith which they sought 
to confirm; — fostering that voluptuousness 
which they essayed to extinguish ; — and instead 
of elevating my affections above the world, in 
a compliance with their benevolent suggestions, 
I have ever addicted my mind to a vain appli- 
cation, tending to no purpose but that of ri- 
vetting my attachment, to its pleasures, its 
pomps, its advantages, and its renown." 



308 



SERMON XVL 

ON DESPAIR. 



PSALM CXLVII. VERSE 3. 

He healeth the broken in heart \ and bindeth up 
their wounds. 

In addressing the common children of adver- 
sity, topics of consolation can be derived with 
effect, from that constant vicissitude which is 
observable in human affairs. We may call on 
them to put their trust in a powerful and bene- 
ficent Providence, able and well inclined to 
disperse those heavy clouds, which for the 
time lower upon their condition ; and to over- 
spread the sky with its wonted serenity. As 
we warn the proud man, who exults in his 
prosperity, not to boast himself of to-morrow, 
we may say, with equal propriety, to the vic- 
tim of despondence, Take courage, and hope 
for better on the morrow ; — assigning the same 
reason for the caution and the consolation;— 
Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth ** 

But there exists a far more unfortunate class 
of sufferers, to whom such considerations cannot 
* Prov. xxvii. 1. 



ON DESPAIR. 



309 



be applied : those, I mean, whose afflictions 
are distinguished from the usual woes of hu- 
manity in this; — that their lot is cast unal- 
terably ; their peace irrecoverably wrecked 5. — 
that they can look for no change in their me- 
lancholy condition, but in the silence and for- 
getfulness of the tomb: — who sit, as on a 
lonely rock, in the midst of gathering darkness 
and rising waters; — where no voice can be 
heard, and no object descried :— and who have 
only now to prepare for the last advancing 
wave, which shall sweep them away into ob- 
livion. 

This is despair ;— the last extremity of sor- 
row; — a deplorable state, demanding of every 
by-stander the deepest commiseration and the 
tenderest assistance. Under other forms and 
circumstances of affliction, the sufferer will 
struggle and expect; and his efforts and prospects 
will, to no small extent, diminish the pressure 
of his burden, and preserve the spring and 
cheerfulness of his disposition. If fortune has 
been unfavourable, it may again prove kind to 
him ; — when labouring under pain, he may look 
for relief and quiet ; — when an obstacle interposes 
itself in any of his worldly pursuits, he may 
be stimulated to redoubled exertions in sur- 
mounting it. When surrounded by the hea- 



310 



SERMON XVI. 



viest and most complicated calamities, if of 
such a nature as to admit but the faintest hope 
of deliverance, the heart will be loath to sink. 
While the bare possibility of escape yet re- 
mains, the natural buoyancy of a sanguine 
mind will fondly conceive what is distantly pos- 
sible to be that which is likely to occur. Such 
instances of distress are the infirmities incidental 
to humanity, which .the spirit of a man can 
easily sustain % But who can sustain, by the 
imaided force of reason, that affliction of the 
mind, that depth of tribulation, in which every ray 
of promise is gone, and the darkness is total : — • 
in which a long and dismal winter hath set in, 
that brings no prospect of a spring; — and 
wherein the reed of hope, which could have bom 
up its head against the ordinary fury of the 
elements, is itself bruised and broken ? 

Come, then, my brethren, let us employ the 
present moments in contemplating and com- 
passionating that class of our fellow-beings, 
unto whom the description now delivered re- 
fers : — the most unhappy of an unhappy race. 
You will hereby exercise your better feelings ; 
— -you will learn resignation under your own 
less severe trials : — in considering a lot which 
you know^ not how soon you may endure, you may 
hope to derive benefit by learning its duties and 

* Prov. xviii. 14. 



ON DESPAIR. 



311 



consolations ; — or should you fortunately con- 
tinue, in your own person, exempt from it, you 
will at least experience advantage in learning 
what arguments are proper to be addressed by 
the voice of Christian friendship and sympathy, 
to any whom it may have already befallen. 

Of these, some, I doubt not, are now assem- 
bled with us ; — and to such our subject must, 
in no ordinary degree, be interesting, I may 
perhaps be to-day addressing myself to not a 
few, who have suffered in their minds wounds 
for which there is no conceivable cure, by the 
total frustration of their favourite scheme, by 
the complete disappointment of those prospects 
and wishes, in which they had centred the 
whole enjoyment of their lives. I imagine 
myself speaking in secret to the soul of some 
mourner, hopelessly bewailing the irreconcile- 
able alienation of that familiar friend who had 
eaten of his bread, and drunk of his cup, and 
been unto him as a daughter. Hither may 
have repaired other children of sorrow, from 
whose countenances health has altogether de- 
parted ; who have become weary of searching- 
it from fountain to fountain, and of seeing the 
fair illusion flee from before them, — and who 
can mark that disease, which will in its time 
destroy, advancing by slow degrees, but with 
x 4 



SERMON XV L 



a steady and a fearful progress. Here too, 
amongst our fellow-worshippers, may a differ- 
ent class be numbered, who having, in one un- 
guarded moment, been betrayed into a deed of 
shame, find that not all the sincerest and bit- 
terest contrition can avail to recall their for- 
feited good name, or to reinstate them in their 
place in society; — whose glory among men is 
departed, — and whose pride of reputation is 
humbled to rise no more, A separate band, it 
is probable, may be convened, whose relish is 
palled for the richest delights of life, since 
some with whom they once took pleasure in 
participating them, have vanished from the 
light of day, and have been brought to their 
long home; — who wander over the world as 
through a desolate wilderness, sad, lonely, and 
dissatisfied; — seeking not rest, because by 
them it cannot be found ; — and mournfully 
conscious that no good can happen unto them, 
until they too shall ha ve arrived at the dark 
and narrow dwelling, appointed as the termina- 
tion of their labours. In vain to all these, the 
• sun looks abroad in his., beauty, and the fields 
are clothed in their pride. Sweet - odours 
breathe no. refreshment on their senses; — the 
voice of glad music will only increase their 
dejection ;— and on witnessing a mirth which 
they shall never more experience, the oppres- 
sion of their spirits unburdens itself in tears. 



ON DESPAIR. 



313 



While others are happy, they are mourning for 
their joys ;. and refuse to be comforted, because 
they are not *. Passed away, as a dream, are 
the days of their cheerfulness : — vanished is 
that alacrity which sprang up amidst transitory 
evils, from the smiling promise of a better 
change. With the Patriarch they say, Our 
purposes are broken offlf. Their pulses of activity 
have ceased to throb; for the fire has gone 
out; — the inward strength has failed: — " The 
wheel is broken at the cistern J." Weeks, and 
months, and years flow on ; — but no interval of 
gladness breaks in upon the gloom. " Day 
unto day uttereth speech § — but it is all the 
same long tale of sorrow. With them heavi- 
ness endureth for the night; but joy cometh 
not in the morning ||. 

O ! sons and daughters of remediless cala- 
mity, to you, who have, as it were, bidden 
adieu to the world, revealed religion spreads 
forth her arms. She beckons you from a scene, 
where the star *)f expectation hath set, where 
all is now over with you, and calls you to come 
unto her, that }^e may recover your rest. .She 
it is who hath power to heal the broken in 
heart whose hand can bind up those deep 
and painful wounds, into which the world has 
no balm to pour. 

* Jer. xxxL 15. f Job, xv. 11. + Eccles, xii. 6, 
§ Psalm xix. 2. |J Psalm xxx. 5, 



314 



SERMON XVI. 



What then, let us inquire, are the consider- 
ations which revelation presents, adapted to 
the condition of this class of sufferers ? Here 
consolation must necessarily be preceded by- 
advice; since it is only by attending to the 
admonitions to be presented, that the subse- 
quent words of peace can be confidently relied 
on, as available to the imparting of substantial 
relief 

I. First, then, I would most earnestly en- 
treat the unhappy individuals, whose sorrows 
I have undertaken to console, that, in this 
total extinction of their earthly happiness and 
hopes, they make not shipwreck of that more 
precious, — that inestimable treasure, — - the 
conscience mid of offence towards God and 
towards man # . Unable as are the sons of 
men to control the course of events, and to 
avoid the sorest calamities of this existence, 
it is indeed, by a blessed appointment of Pro- 
vidence, that one rich possession ever remains, 
of which neither the accidents nor the cala- 
mities, that take away all things else, can deprive 
them ;— of which they cannot be bereaved, but 
by their own consent. How desirable to se- 
cure, — for we are able to secure,— -that pleasing 
satisfaction, which must have sprung up in the 
mind of the Patriarch, — from reflecting that 
he could say, without presumption or self- 
* Acts, xxiv. 16. 



ON DESPAIR, 



315 



deceit, after Satan had applied trials which he 
had reason to helieve were without remedy: — ■ 
All, however, is not yet lost: — my righteousness 
I hold fast, and will not let it go: — my heart 
shall ?iat reproach me so long as I live % 

By the conscience void of offence, it is ? 
however, by no means necessary to understand 
a mind entirely free from any self-reproach, on 
account of past misconduct. If this were 
strictly requisite, no peace could be promised, 
no encouragement offered, to any among the 
victims of despair : for no spotless conscience, 
corresponding to the description, could in all 
the world be found. And here it is, that the 
excellence of the Christian dispensation shines 
forth pre-eminently above all other religions. 
It would not, in circumstances of worldly 
despair, be very practicable, even for the most 
virtuous, — I would say for the most presump- 
tuous Heathen or Deist, to find satisfaction 
from examining the chambers of his own heart, 
since he would there assuredly encounter, in 
the remembrance of many trespasses, and in 
the consciousness of much remaining infirmity, 
a some of anxious distrust with regard to his 
acceptance in the presence of a pure and a just 
God. But the religion of atonement provide* 
a remedy for the past, the religion of grace a 
* Job, xxvii, 6. 



316 



SERMON XVl. 



copious succour for the future : and in the mild 
and liberal interpretation of the Gospel, the 
unoffending conscience is held to signify no 
more than a conscience full of contrition, and 
faith, and humility, free from any present bur- 
den of habitual or presumptuous offence, and 
sincerely resolved on amendment and obedi- 
ence, in reliance on the aids of Heaven, for the 
time to come. This it is fully in the power of 
fallen and frail creatures to obtain and to pre- 
serve: — and no man can be deemed sunk in the 
extremity of wretchedness, in absolute and 
entire despair, so long as he thus possesses that 
internal peace, which prognosticates quietness 
and assurance for ever. Blest in this ample 
source of satisfaction, if we cannot heal, we 
can at least much alleviate, the wounds of a 
broken spirit # . 

From the statement now submitted, you will 
perceive it to follow as a corollary, that to 
those who hold the Christian faith, in its grand 
principles of mediation and communicated 
strength, no ground is afforded for any such 
gloomy feeling, as that of religious despair. 
Let no one, however criminal, imagine him- 
self excluded from mercy, or fallen from good 
beyond the possibility of rising. The merit* 
of the Saviour's passion are extended to the 
chief of sinners ; and even the frailest and the 
* Isaiah, xxxii. 17, 



ON DESPAIR. 317 

feeblest of mankind is encouraged to look up 
to a celestial Helper for a sufficiency, by which 
his trespasses will be removed, — -his weakness 
invigorated. Though thy sins have been as 
scarlet, they shall be white as the driven 
snow: — though they be deeper than crimson, 
they shall be as the purest wool *. 

II. But while to those who are bereft of all 
present hope, we thus earnestly recommend, in 
general, the heart sprinkled from an evil con- 
science, it seems necessary to inculcate, as 
more particularly indispensable to their posses- 
sion of this invaluable treasure, the duty of 
entire submission to the blow which has cast 
them down, and of patient continuance unto 
the end in their sufferings, however exquisite 
and however hopeless. With such unhappy 
characters it is too common, we may express 
our fear, to dispense, in different degrees, with 
this important duty, without duly arraigning 
themselves at the bar of conscience. Too 
often do they regard the fulness of their cup 
of woe, as affording them a privilege for inii 
patience and murmuring; not remembering 
that He to whose sorrow never sorrow was like, 
afforded them in his last extremity an example 
of the meekest submission. Nay, some among 
them, even Christian believers, in their dark 
* Isaiah^ i. 18. 



318 



SERMON XVI. 



and heavier moments, are known to have made 
endeavours, strange though it he to tell, to recon- 
cile to their sense of religion and duty, the com- 
mission of that desperate and inexpiable act, in 
which nature is armed against itself. Persuading 
themselves, that since they are inevitably and 
completely cut off by Providence, from all en- 
joyment in the present scene, the Almighty 
who made them to be happy, is too good and 
merciful to be offended at their flying to the 
sole relief which remains to them, they have 
gone the length of justifying self-destruction 
on Christian principles, and of even ennobling 
it into a Christian virtue. " What father," it 
is asked, in a popular and insidious publication, 
" what father would not greet, with more than 
pity and forgiveness, with his warmest wel- 
come, and his tenderest love, that son, who, 
able to find no happiness abroad, should hasten 
back to seek it in his presence ?" A dangerous 
and most false suggestion, my brethren ; — for 
observe, in the case of those to whom it is ad- 
dressed in the world, the Father says, " Go 
forth for a season; — suffer what I inflict;— 
suffer it that ye may return meet for that in- 
heritance which I prepare for you ; — / am the 
judge when you shall have suffered enough: — 
and I will then, rest assured, call you to my 
home and presence : — but beware of returning 
until your summons shall arrive;— lest ye in- 



ON DESPAIR. 3 19 

trude before you have fully earned your offered 
remuneration; lest ye share the sad lot of the 
unprofitable and disobedient; and find too late 
that the unbidden desertion of your trial has 
only served to purchase for you a removal, from 
one scene of sorrow to * another and a more 
intolerable." 

Again ; — There are certain cases of human 
despair, such, for example, as those of ruined 
reputation, or irremediable disease, which pre- 
clude the possibility, in many instances, of the 
sufferer's continuing any longer to discharge, 
as formerly, the ordinary duties of his station 
in life; — and under such circumstances he is 
apt, during his moods of dejection, to tell 
himself, that as man has been placed on this 
earth, solely, as it would appear, for purposes of 
utility, he, who is no longer an advantage or 
an ornament, but who has become a blot and 
an incumbrance to society, will act, not only 
excusably, but fitly, in delivering his brethren 
from the burden of their services, for which 
he has now no equivalent to offer; — in leaving, 
voluntarily, a place where his presence is of no 
use, and from whence, he doubts not, his de-^ 
parture is desired, 

But, my Christian brother, have you fully 
ascertained^ or is it infallibly true, that the 



320 



SERMON XVL 



only end of your existence upon earth, is the 
production of advantage to others? How 
know you, but that the Almighty may have 
designs in placing you on trial, which centre 
exclusively in yourself? As he neither creates 
nor preserves in vain, is not this rendered, to 
say the least, probable (supposing for a moment 
that all power of utility whatever is taken away 
from you), by the very circumstance of your 
not being yet removed? May he not perceive 
that your heart is not yet thoroughly regene- 
rated, and that a little longer space of en- 
durance is necessary, in order to purify and to 
perfect you through suffering? Admitting, how- 
ever, the extremely questionable doctrine, that 
utility to your brethren is the sole end of your 
present existence, have you duly considered 
whether you may not even still be useful to 
them, — highly useful, and that in the most 
essential points,— as a model of piety, as an 
example of resignation, as a monument of sore 
affliction, which may greatly serve to reconcile 
them to evils less severe than yours; — yet evils 
which the sufferers would deem altogether inr 
tolerable, unless they could be contrasted with 
others of a heavier nature * I 

* These observations, it is trusted, afford a full answer to the 
contemptible sophistry of Rousseau, as contained in the 114th. 
letter of his Eloise. f < We have a right to put an end to our 
life, when it is no longer agreeable to ourselves, or advan^ 

% 



ON DESPAIR* 



321 



But turning away from these speculative in- 
quiries of reason, positive injunctions, it must 
be remembered, are laid down, which admit of 
but one construction, and from which there is 
no escape. Revelation places an insuperable 
barrier in your way. If you rely on its truths, 
you must receive its dictates : if you lay claim 
to its promises, you must submit to its re- 
strictions. It becomes not us, indeed, to exer- 
cise rashness and violence in dealing the bolts 
of Heaven, — in deciding how fully the wrath 
of God will be exerted, — or how far his com- 
passion may soften it, in the case of an of- 
fender, whose crime presupposes an overflow- 
ing cup of bitterness, and an exquisite percep- 
tion of sorrow ; — an affliction and a sensibility, 



iageous to 'Others." But our Werters and St. Preux's must 
please to recollect, that suicide, even on lower principles than 
they profess, may place them in a situation still less agreeable > 
and although the life of any such person may not hitherto 
have proved very advantageous to others, there is no point 
of suffering at which he can say, — it may not become so. 
The whole passage alluded to is a tissue of the most childish 
and inconclusive reasoning ; and even the weak answer con- 
tained in the following letter gives up the point, in regard 
to bodily evils. — Suicide, according to Mr. Hume, in his 
legacy to posterity, is no more than the diversion of a quan- 
tity of blood into a different channel. It is a kind of general 
cupping. — This it is here needless to answer. — We are arguing 
with those who profess Christianity ; and believe man to have 
-an accountable soul, 



SERMON XVI* 



without which the law of self-preservation, the 
natural tenacity of animated being to life, could 
not be violated. But when we look towards 
that light which alone ought to guide our steps, 
we cannot, — however we may commiserate the 
sulferingSj-^hold forth encouragement to the 
presumptuous hopes, of those who expect to sit 
down with their Lord in his kingdom, without 
being clad in the wedding garment of prepara- 
tion. We must dismiss all comment where the 
text is plain. We must be faithful unto death 
if we w ould have the crown of life *. We must 
continue unto the end'] , or we cannot be saved. 
We must wait all the days of our appointed time, 
until our change comet h J. 

I would further remark, that these considera- 
tions, which seem sufficiently powerful to stay 
the hand of Despair, from perpetrating any act 
of deliberate self-destruction^ ought to be no 
less persuasive in recommending the avoidance 
of that slow but sure poison of pining sorrow, 
which, without any premeditated scheme of 
suicide, insensibly brings about a premature 
termination of existence. To indulge this 
gloomy dejection, it cannot be questioned, is 
boldly to oppose the will of Heaven; — for as 
such indulgence affects the sufferer himself, it 
criminally abridges the trial to which he is ap- 
pointed by his Judge ; — as it relates to his bre- 

* Rev. ii, 10, f Matt, x, 22. % xiv « l4 * 



ON DESPAIR. 



325 



thren, it deprives them of that example of 
patience, which Heaven, in sending forth the 
grievous affliction, intended, doubtless, that he 
should exhibit. 

I would not, however, be conceived as at all 
insinuating, that the unhappy individuals whose 
case is under contemplation, are required, or 
should be exhorted, too far to strain their 
feelings, to study an unnatural pitch of cheer- 
fulness, or to struggle in the crowds of active 
life. A patient serenity, a meek submission 
to their lot, and a quiet and uniform, rather 
than an eager or very energetic, discharge 
of such offices as they are yet enabled to per- 
form, constitute the whole which God or maiu 
can demand of those, in whose breasts the 
springs of action are broken, — and the object 
of attainment, and motive to exertion, have 
vanished. And although the victims of despair 
be strictly prohibited from hastening forward, 
whether by sudden or by slow means, their 
latter end, or from repining under the awards 
of Providence, I do not, I must confess, see 
any good reason, why, after all the duties now 
enumerated have been fulfilled, they should 
regard as sinful, if it afford them satisfac- 
tion, a pensive wish to be dismissed from their 
miseries. Paul, fully sensible of his utility upon 

Y 2 



3£4 



SERMON XVr. 



earth, — seeing before him new labours unto 
which Heaven had appointed him, deemed not 
presumptuous, when encompassed with troubles, 
the desire to depart, and to be with his Master *. 
The Saviour of the world himself, although he 
bowed to, and at length obeyed, the will of his 
heavenly Father, desired that he might be 
saved from the agonies of his last hour, — and 
that the cup, if possible, might be taken from 
his hands, before he should come to drink it 
to its bitterest dregs f , 

When the counsels now offered shall have 
been carefully observed, all they who labour 
under hopeless sufferings may proceed, I will, 
venture to pronounce, in full and confident 
security, to appropriate to their hearts the con- 
solations of Scripture. 

I. Consider, first, I beseech you, my suffer- 
ing brethren, that your condition, however 
for the present helpless, is yet happily exempt 
from that eternal sorrow, which can alorie truly 
merit the character of despair. When you re- 
member that the earth contains individuals, — 
now perhaps abounding in its good things, and 
joyous in prosperity, — who shall be doomed to 
feel, throughout everlasting ages, what you 
experience only for a short, and continually 
* Phil. i. 2,?, f Luke, xxii. 42 f 



ON DESPAIR. 



contracting season ; — when you stand in ima- 
gination on the brink of the dreadful gulf, 
and cast a look downward on the place of 
punishment;- — when you behold there, encir- 
cled with everlasting burnings, the truly hope- 
less bands of impenitent spirits, for ever ba- 
nished from the presence of their God — from 
the light of his countenance, and the glory 
of his power,- — without prospect of melioration, 
without possibility of change, — and finding all 
around thein — infinite wrath, and infinite de- 
spair ; — when you witness the gnawings of the 
worm that dieth not; — when you listen to the 
waitings that shall never cease, and to the com- 
plaints of reprobate beings that sit clenching 
their hands, and cursing the day of their nativity; 
— when you yonder mark the livid flames, and the 
dun smoke of the torment thatascendeth forever 
and ever* ; — your own situation will brighten to 
your view ; — you will dry up the tears that cover 
your face; — you will speak consolation and 
peace to your souls. You will return with cheer- 
fulness to the path of obedience, although 
aware that it leads to no immediate recompense ; 
and resolve to submit to your allotment of 
temporary despair, until it shall please God, in 
his good time, to terminate your tribulation 
and your trial 

* Rcv.xiv. IU 
Y 3 



S°6 



SERMON XVI. 



II. But the chief satisfaction of which your con- 
dition admits, consists in habituall} 7 directing for- 
ward your views, beyond the limits of this scene 
of trouble, to that region of pure, unspeakable 
enjoyment which awaits you, and of which the 
happiness will, in your case, be unquestionably 
heightened, by being contrasted with the mi- 
series, through which you will have reached it. 
How much more grateful is the calm and secure 
harbour to the shipwrecked mariner, than to 
the favourite of fortune, whose whole voyage 
has been prosperous ! How much more accept- 
able is the festive entertainment, to a wretch 
perishing with hunger, than to the children of 
luxury who have fared sumptuously every day ! 
How doubly pleasurable must be the fresh 
breeze of spring, — the warm and exhilarating 
return of the sun, to him who has long been 
acquainted with the gloom of a dungeon, or 
who has counted the sleepless hours on a bed 
of sickness ! Even so, by the same natural 
force of contrast, will eternity afford an higher 
feeling of delight, to those servants of God 
who shall have come out of the heaviest — shall 
have come out of a hopeless tribulation ; than 
to others whose lighter and every-day griefs 
have been cheered and consoled during the 
whole course of their earthly pilgrimage, with 
the smiling prospect of better fortune on the 
morrow! O death! acceptable is thy sentence 
unto the needy, and unto him whose strength failetk; 



ON* DESPAIR. 



327 



— tiiat is now in the last age, and is vexed with alt 
things ; und to him that departeth, and hath lost 
patience*. If to such, even the transmission to 
insensibility and annihilation be thus desirable, 
how infinitely more acceptable that better pas- 
sage, from galling fetters to unspeakable felicity ; 
—from total darkness to torrents of joy — from 
heaviness inconsolable, to happiness uninter* 
rupted and unmixed ! 

Fix your thoughts then on that blessed mo 
rnent, which at the furthest is not distant, — r 
which each day of suffering is bringing nearer, 
— and which may possibly arrive more speedily 
than you have cause to believe; — when you 
will bid farewell to the world and ail its sor- 
rows ; — and when Heaven and its glories will 
burst upon your sight. Dwell in forethought 
on the rapturous sensation which awaits you, at 
that mysterious, awful, pleasing moment, when 
the mouldering walls of your earthly tabernacle 
shall fall away, and when the disencumbered 
and imprisoned spirit will spring to the God 
who gave it: — -when the hand of the minister- 
ing angel will unbar the everlasting gates, and 
when revealing to your sight the full tide of 
splendour, which beams forth from the holy city 
that is above, he will bid you enter into a joy- 
that is yours for ever. Think of that transition 
* Ecclus. xli, 2, 
Y 4 



SERMON XVI. 



from all that is afflictive to all that is plea- 
surable, — to pleasures, of which your per- 
ception will, you need not doubt, be the more 
vivid, as your earthly sufferings have been more 
poignant and protracted. 

To sum up the whole; — (for you will pardon 
the earnest repetition,) let every individual for 
whom no further happiness remains in the pre- 
sent commencement of existence, be moved by 
all the foregoing admonitions and consolations, 
to beware of casting away that happiness of the 
world to come, which is now his last and only 
stake. You have experienced one world to be a 
scene of misery, unabating, unceasing, and un- 
cheered; — see (for to make the provision is now 
in your own power) that you do not likewise 
make the other so. Do you grieve for a reputa- 
tion blasted among men ? The trial is a sore one ; 
— but look beyond the grave. Immortal ho- 
nour is yet within your grasp : — at least secure 
this, by continuing faithful in disgrace. Has 
the friend of your confidence been removed 
from your side? Inseparable reunion is pre- 
sented to your expectations : — yet remember 
that the path of perseverance is the only way 
to it. Do you carry about in the body in- 
firmities for which there is no remedy? — It is 
yet yours to hope for a happy transformation 
into the likeness of Christ's glorious body # ; — 
* Phil.iii.2i. 



ON DESPAIR. 



forfeit not then this reversionary blessing, by 
any present rash deed, or wilful disobedience. „ 

Go, inspired with the humble resolution, 
that although the fig-tree shall never more 
blossom ; — although the withered vine yield no 
hope of fruit ; — though form, or fortune, or fame, 
or friends, be gone, gone for ever, — you will 
yet love and serve the God of your salvation :— 
that you will wait without a murmur under irre- 
parable evils, until he who alone knoweth what 
is truly good for you, shall determine that your 
patience has been perfected by experience ; — 
that the end of your trials, the morning of your 
joy, the day of your deliverance, is arrived; 
that the measure of your affliction is full;— 
and that the sufferer may depart in peace. 



330 



SERMON XVII.* 

FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



i JOHN, CHAP. IV. VERSE 21. 

And this commandment xve have from Him, that 
he who loveth God, love his brother also, 

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy 
soul, thy heart, and thy strength, is a maxim 
set forth hy our blessed Master, as being the 
first and great commandment. And when we 
consider, that it is God in whom we live and 
move, that to his providence w r e are indebted 
for the bounties and delights of nature, and for 
whatever comforts are mingled in our respec- 
tive conditions: — when we further reflect, that 
this same God was in Christ, reconciling the 
world unto himself ; that our spirits, ransomed 
by the blood of that divine Personage, are re*- 
newed and purified by an influence, of which 
he is likewise the author ; and that the Father 
will bestow the unmerited blessing of eternal 

* The latter part of this Sermon has been substituted for 
the same portion of another, preached in behalf of the Female 
Charity School of St. Pancrasj which it was my original in» 
tention to have published." 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 331 

life on every one who shall seek it in the man- 
ner he hath pointed out ; — all of us, I am per- 
suaded, will feel and confess the strict propriety 
of that injunction which demands the tribute 
of our love; and the hearts of all will glow 
with the warmest affection, towards a Being so 
good, so gracious, and so bountiful. 

So influential over conduct indeed is this 
great principle of love ; — so naturally does it tend, 
when professed in sincerity, to produce an 
earnest and sedulous observance of the will, — an 
imitation of the perfections, and an endeavour 
to promote the glory, of the Supreme Object of 
attachment ; — that in various parts of the sacred 
volume it is exhibited to us, as alone comprising 
all the obligations of man. Keep yourselves in 
the love of God (writes St. Jude), locking for 
the mercy of Christ unto eternal life * St. Pauf 
declares, that all things work together for good 
unto them that love God f : — and again, in a dif- 
ferent passage, that eye hath not seen, nor heart 
conceived, what God hath prepared for them 
that love him J. 

Unfortunately, there have existed in all ages 
of the Christian church, — a class of ill-informed 
(for we are forbidden by Christian charity, to, 
pronounce them ill-meaning) individuals, — who, 
misinterpreting such compendious descriptions 

* Jvtde, 21. f Rom. via. 1% % 1 Cor. ii. p. 



332 



SERMON XVII. 



of duty ; — mistaking the spring for the river, the 
foundation for the complete edifice, — have con- 
fined their love of the Deity to an inactive fer- 
vour, or to impassioned, but unmeaning protest- 
ations of attachment. To obviate these par- 
tial, contracted views, and misconceived notions 
of obedience, the word of truth, in other places, 
speaks more amply and explicitly; — defining 
this term of love towards our heavenly Master, 
as comprehending the principles and moral du- 
ties of his servants; — as embracing the faith of 
the mind and heart, — as annexing to the adora- 
tion of the lips, repentance and holiness in the 
conduct. Whoso keepeth the word of God, in him 
verity is the lone of God perf ected*. If ye love me, 
keep my commandments^; so shall I be assured, — 
in this manner only can you assure yourselves, 
that the professions of love which you utter are 
sincere, — and that the devout affections of which 
your hearts are conscious, are unequivocally the 
earnest of salvation. 

Among the commandments, of which the ob- 
servance is, in such passages, enjoined, as a test 
and manifestation of affection for the Supreme 
Being; — no one appears more frequently in- 
sisted on, than charity exercised towards the 
bodies and souls, — compassion, alive to the pre- 
sent necessities, and the everlasting interests, of 
our brethren. He that loveth God, will love hk 
* 1 John, ii. & f John, xiv. If. 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



333 



brother also. Whoso hath this world's good, and 
seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his 
compassion against his brother, how dwelleth the 
love of God in him *? 

If we are anxious to ascertain the reason for 
this reference of the love of God, to love to- 
wards our neighbour; — to discover the bond 
which connects a sentiment or emotion, having 
the Creator of the universe for its object, — 
with active services towards the creatures of 
his hands, — we shall find it to be a necessary 
consequence of the nature of that Creator. As 
God is to us the author of every good and 
perfect gift, we evidently owe him, in return 
for his bounties, something more than the 
warmth of feelings, and the breath of protest- 
ations ; — we are bound to make some return of 
active service ; — to offer before his altar, as a tri- 
bute of gratitude, some substantial proof of our 
professed attachment. 

How then is this to be done? On Him, per- 
sonally, we can confer no favour. He is all- 
powerful, and needs not our assistance. He is 
supremely happy, and we can add nothing to 
his enjoyment. He hath himself, in the person 
of his divine Son, graciously resolved this dif- 
ficulty; Inasmuch as ye shall do it unto one of 
these your brethren — ye do it unto me f . 

1 John, iv\ 21 • — 17 , f Matt. xxv. 40. 



334 



SERMON XVII. 



Foremost, therefore, among all arguments, 
whether recommending charity in general, or 
any specific modification of almsgiving, ought 
ever to be placed its propriety and indispen- 
sableness, when considered as an indication of 
the love which we profess, and a tribute of the 
gratitude which we owe, to Almighty God. 
And I here feel the more strongly inclined to in* 
sjst on this generous principle of benevolence, — 
as I am aware that, in the present age of sordid 
calculation, an infirmity into which men are but 
too prone to fall, and which public solicitors of 
their bounty, I fear, are but too apt to encourage, 
— is the administration of relief to their indigent 
brethren, on the low, selfish, mercenary ground, 
of the expectation of a temporal equivalent. We 
are invited to encourage the friendly societies 
of the lower orders, because we may thereby 
expect to diminish our parish rates. Education, 
we are told, instils principles of honesty; and 
on this account, we are interested in supporting 
establishments for the instruction of our poorer 
brethren, since we thus contribute to the future 
preservation of our own property. Far from 
our breasts, my Christian hearers, and far from 
an edifice of Christian worship, be driven (when 
regarded as the exclusive, or even as the leading 
motive of our bounty) such cold, creeping, de- 
spicable conceptions.— Far were they from the 
mind of Him who is our great pattern of com- 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



335 



passion : — far alike from the tenour of his con- 
duct and the spirit of his instructions. When a 
sojourner upon earth, he went about doing good 
unto those, who, he knew, were to repay him with 
a crown of mockery, and a cross of shame. 
When delivering his precepts, he exhorted 
his disciples to do good, and lend—hoping for 
nothing again*. In a word ; — let us at all times, 
when a claim upon our benevolence presents 
itself, recollect our duty of attachment to the 
Father of mercies; and from that fountain, our 
alms will liberally flow. For, in truth, after we 
have done all — we are unprofitable servants — 
and, after we have given all — we remain in- 
debted unto Heaven. 

Yet, although this disinterested and high mo- 
tive of beneficence ought ever to be pre-emi- 
nently distinguished, there are inferior induce- 
ments which Heaven, in compassion, hath ad* 
dressed to the understanding and the heart, with 
a view to quicken our sympathy, and to expe- 
dite our services of relief. 

Thus, with reference to that proud and noble. 
Institution, for the support of which it is this 
morning my allotted province, to entreat a con- 
tinuance of your assistance,— it must at once oc- 
cur to every mind, that combined operation for 
the relief of the sick, is incalculably more 
* huke, vi, 35. 



536 



sermon xvrr. 



powerful and extensive in its efficacy, than acts 
of separate and individual bounty. Did 
each of the contributors to the public Charity 
for which I plead, withhold his donation on the 
plea of expending it in his own neighbourhood, 
how trifling would be the sum of benefit he 
could confer ! — -Medical attendance for the indi- 
gent sick around him, his pittance of alms could 
not amply procure; and even if it were suf- 
ficient for the purchase of a few medicines, who 
is to direct the nature and composition of the re- 
medies, adapted to each patient's particular case; 
—or (what seems of hardly inferior consequence) 
the measures of these remedies to be administer- 
ed? How is the sick man's diet to be regulated, 
and the progress of his disease to be watched; 
each favourable symptom to be turned to ad- 
vantage, and the spark of life, trembling betwixt 
animation and extinction, to be cherished and 
blown into a flame ? How unfavourable to re- 
covery are the miserable accommodations of a 
hovel, where the sick man's aching head may 
be distressed by the needful labour of other 
members of the household, or his feeble limbs 
benumbed under insufficient coverings; — and 
where almost every circumstance is unfavour- 
able to that undisturbed rest and improved 
comfort, which constitute no trifling portion of 
his chances for convalescence ! 
4 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



337 



But, remove the patient to an hospital ; and 
how different a scene presents itself ! — Inaddi- 
tion to the advantages of repose and cleanli- 
ness, of convenient accommodation, and of 
suitable food, he here finds the physician, the 
surgeon, the apothecary, the nurse, and the 
menial attendant, all uniting their separate exer- 
tions for his welfare — exertions, directed by 
skill, improved by habit, perfected by confine- 
ment to a single branch of the common labour, 
and quickened, as well by tenderness towards 
the sufferer, as by a sense of public inspec- 
tion, and a regard for personal reputation. — 
All these benefits result from the same prin- 
ciple which facilitates the preservation, and 
cheapens the price, of the common conve- 
niences and elegances of life, by a system 
of connected and consolidated operations. 
An Infirmary may be regarded as a large ma- 
nufactory ; — where a vast variety of wheels and 
spindles are set in motion by the power of one 
engine; — where each performs his share of the 
work with the greater dexterity, as his atten- 
tion is concentrated to it; — and where the accu- 
mulation of capital in a single hand, creates an 
economy in room, light, heat, machinery, and 
general labour, — which it were hopeless to ex- 
pect, did each private family attempt to manu- 
facture the commodity under their own roof # . 

* Note.— This Discourse was preached in a manufacturing 
town. 

Z 



338 



SERMON XVII* 



In a large and populous town,— 'especially 
where strong furnaces, and sharp or ponderous 
instruments are necessarily employed, in prepar- 
ing the staple article of sale, — I need not specify 
the variety of sudden dangers, to which the poor 
and labouring classes are exposed. How feli- 
citous an invention then must be that of a sanc- 
tuary, to which the sufferer by accident may 
instantly be carried, and where his case will 
certainly be considered without delay! In 
the absence of such public head-quarters of 
relief, the unfortunate individual who had re- 
ceived a contusion in a fall, or a wound from an 
enraged animal ; — who had been lacerated by 
steel, or scalded by flame,— would be surrounded 
by a gazing multitude, ignorant whither they 
should remove him ; — or, perhaps, conveyed in a 
painful litter from house to house, in quest of a 
precarious private assistance. 

An institution thus open for the reception of 
patients labouring under every modification of 
human ailment, further affords an excellent 
school of medical knowledge, to pupils and 
young practitioners in the science. Here theo- 
retic skill is exemplified by practical exertion; 
and a combination of oral instruction and ocu- 
lar demonstration, admits the inexperienced 
student to a knowledge of his profession, which 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



539 



books alone would be utterly inadequate to im- 
part. It must be highly grateful then to the 
philanthropic mind to reflect, that in minis- 
tering to the wants of the indigent sick, it is 
opening sluices of health which will, in a few 
years, descend to refresh the general body of 
the community. 

With many among those who hear me, there 
is a peculiar argument, of no inconsiderable 
force, which I shall without scruple press 
upon their recollection, not doubting that it has 
frequently presented itself to their minds. — 
That we all are indebted for many conveniences 
of life to the necessary toil of men whom Pro- 
vidence hath placed beneath us in station, 
ought surely to be a motive for our supporting 
under disease, those who, when in health, 
had contributed to our accommodation. — But 
perhaps the majority of hearers at this time as- 
sembled, hold their present situation of opu- 
lence or of comfort, in consequence of the suc- 
cess of large concerns, in which the members 
employed have been drawn from the labours of 
agriculture, to a mode of earning their liveli- 
hood far less salutary. I would not here be uiK 4 
derstood as instituting any invidious comparison 
betwixt the manufactures and the agriculture 
of this happy country : for its agriculture, inr 

z 2 



340 



SERMON- XVII. 



deed, is necessarily improved, in proportion as 
its manufactures flourish. — Neither would I 
insinuate the slightest hint of disrespect towards 
an honourable occupation, which bestows on 
Great Britain, wealth, pride, credit, and domi- 
nion ;— which, while it furnishes the sinews of 
war, encourages all the arts, the elegances, and 
trie ornaments of peace. It is sufficient for my 
argument, that in that stage of refinement in 
the natural march of society, to which we are 
arrived, the advantages acquired are, unhappily, 
not unattended with a certain quantity of evil. 
For, if it cannot be denied, that large towns, 
and chiefly large manufacturing towns, are con- 
siderably less favourable to health and morals, 
than the open country, the village, and the 
hamlet ; — that they foster, in the lower orders, 
vices of intemperance and licentiousness, which 
fatally tend to undermine the constitution; — if it 
be certain that, by reason of sedentary occupa- 
tions, amidst unctuous substances, floating 
shreds, or sulphureous effluvia, — in close and 
crowded workrooms, — humours accumulating 
in the human frame lay the foundation of much 
ailment, which would not have existed, if such 
humours had been freely dispersed, by a circula- 
tion of pure air, and by salutary exercise: — if 
this, I say, be admitted, then, consequently, it 
is most reasonable, that individuals who enjoy 
the first -and chief benefit accruing from such 
4 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



341 



a state of society, should be the -most prompt, 
forward, and liberal in contributing towards a 
redress of the evils that are inseparable from it. 
It cannot be questioned, that no small number 
of the cases of disease which are presented to 
the Infirmary of this place, have originated im- 
mediately, or, at least, by inherited complaint, 
either in unwholesome labour, or in licentious 
conduct, both connected with a state of crowded 
population, and of sophisticated living. The 
claim then upon all of us, who either immedi- 
ately, or by inheritance, find a bank and treasury 
in property, arising from causes which have 
inevitably, it would seem, drawn such conse- 
quences in their train, must be a claim exceed- 
ingly strong: it must even, I think, amount to 
Something resembling a debt. In requesting 
your assistance, therefore, towards the support 
of an institution designed and calculated for 
the alleviation of such evils, I feel the ground 
beneath me to be firm. — I refuse to solicit it 
of humanity ; — I demand it at the hands of jus- 
tice. I cannot wholly submit to sue for that 
as an alms, which, in the poor man's name, I 
can call for as his right. 

But, since vice, as well as disease, is generated 
by such a condition of society, as that which we 
have been here contemplating, the voluntary 
abatement of its evils would be incomplete, if 

z $ 



342 



SERMON XVII. 



wise and humane measures were not adopted 
and pursued, for the welfare of the soul, as well 
as of the body; — for the amendment of morals, 
not less than the restoration of health. In 
a congregation convened for religious pur- 
poses, — in an assembly composed of the profes- 
sors of a religion expressly designed at once to 
promote the glory of God, and to circulate 
wishes of peace and good-will towards men, — it 
would be unpardonable not to suggest, that in 
the excellent regulation relative to the weekly 
devotions of your Infirmary, provision is made 
for the probability of awakening the sick man, 
to serious views concerning the brevity of life, 
the importance of religion, and the welfare of 
his imperishable spirit. In the gaiety of health, 
and in the bustle of worldly occupation, the 
still small voice of conscience is too likely to 
be unheard, and the hopes and fears of religion 
to be disregarded or postponed. But let the un- 
thinking individual be stretched out upon a sick 
bed, and let him be driven to introspection by 
the absence of mad hilarity, or by the suspen- 
sion of anxious employment; — and then it is 
that the accents of adoration, and the dictates 
of divine truth, will chime in harmony with the 
state of his reflections, — will steal on his en- 
feebled frame, his subdued spirits, and his serious 
composure, grateful and soothing as is the soft- 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 342 

est music to the soul in her most pensive and 
meditative mood. It is extremely probable that, 
under divine grace, in this happy combination 
of religion and opportunit}", the sweet sounds 
of the Gospel of peace and truth, may not re- 
turn void from the ears in which they shall be 
uttered; — and that a seed may be sown in the 
hearts of many transgressors, — springing up, by 
the blessing of God, unto eternal life. And the 
full effect of so benevolent an agency is secured, 
by a circumstance peculiar (so far as I know) 
to your Institution, and highly creditable to the 
feelings, the piety, and the ingenuity of those 
who planned the interior of the structure. 
Having been recently called upon in rotation to 
officiate, in the place of the respected minister 
for whom I am an unworthy substitute, it af- 
forded me particular pleasure to observe the 
contrivance in the chapel for extending the 
sound of its devotions to the apartments of the 
bedridden, the loathsome, and the dying; — an 
improvement which I cannot recollect having 
observed in other institutions of the kind 
which I have visited % 

In the present age of wild and extravagant 
liberality, it would perhaps only involve me in 
the imputation of bigotry, if I were to presume 

* Four windows in the walls of the chapel open into their 
wards. 

2 4 



344 



SERMON XVII. 



to subjoin — as an additional subject of congra- 
tulation, — that the electric spark of conversion 
is not transmitted through empirical hands ; — 
that the spiritual health is imparted by a regular 
and accredited physician of the soul ; — that the 
offending right-hand is amputated, in a moral as 
well as in a literal sense, by scientific, experi- 
enced, and humane practitioners ; — that an at- 
tempt is made to couch every offending right 
eye, before it be rudely plucked out and cast 
away; — that the poor man is not intoxicated by 
the stimulants of enthusiasm into presumption, 
or, by the attenuants of groundless fear reduced 
to despair; — but receives a moral medicine which 
lays the foundation of permanent health — 
through the medium of a reasonable religion, 
and of the half-inspired Liturgy of the Church 
of England. 

I am aware that many highly respectable in- 
dividuals are numbered in the present congrega- 
tion, with respect to whom so large a variety of ar- 
guments as I have now employed may be deemed 
superfluous ; — I am aware that those who are of 
the greatest opulence and consideration, are like- 
wise the most distinguished for their munifi- 
cence towards charitable establishments. Yet, 
at the same time, I am not so inexperienced in 
my profession, or so entirely ignorant of the 
human heart, as not to know likewise, that the 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 



34.5 



usual result of such disccurses as the present, is 
a collection which might have been computed 
nearly with as unerring an accuracy, as any 
number of votes that may have been determin- 
ed by venality, before debate upon the matter 
in question has commenced. Reports have 
reached our ears of the astonishing effects fre- 
quently produced by charity sermons in our sis- 
ter island — in the land of generous sensibility — 
some emptying purses — or pencilling their pro- 
missorynotes : Christian ladies, forgetful of their 
ornaments, — and doubtless, when so unadorn- 
ed, adorned the most — unbuckling the girdle, 
and unclasping the bracelet, like Roman ma- 
trons, for a public cause; — content to part with 
their index of time, that they may secure the 
bliss of eternity, — and cheerfully divesting 
themselves of their richest jewels, for the sake of 
purchasing the pearl of inestimable price. Here, 
where eloquence is weaker, where judgments 
are more cold, and imaginations less lively, any 
effects of this description it were frenzy to ex- 
pect. Yet why should the two scenes exhibit 
so strong a contrast? Why, in a promiscuous 
assemblage, should there be found grudging 
servants, who, year after year, approach with 
their single and solitary talent, wrapt up in a 
napkin ; and though they know it to be much 
less than they could conveniently spare, would 
hardly be prevailed upon by lips touched with 



346 



SERMON XVI L 



fire, to add to it the most insignificant appendix. 
These, if such be present, I would fain prevail 
with to alter so cold and calculating a mode of 
administering their beneficence; —not solely 
with a view to the present transient occasion, 
but as the commencement of a generous and 
honourable habit, of sometimes bestowing a 
trifle more than they had intended. 

There is a different description of characters, 
equally difficult to impress, who are come with a 
fixed predetermination to give the munificence of 
nothing, on the plea that their contributions are 
already subscribed in another form. Now I will 
freely admit it to be highly proper and necessary, 
that the rich should make some ostensible de- 
monstration to their poorer brother of their not 
being totally forgetful of his interests. But 
though donations thus blazoned may, in many 
instances, be presented with the most refined 
and upright views, the danger is extreme, lest 
the motives to such bounty be mingled with 
some small leaven of a lurking self-delusion. If, 
therefore, such individuals would fully satisfy 
their ow T n consciences, and approve themselves 
before God — as bringing their tribute of pity 
from unadulterated motives — as entirely free 
from all wish to blow a trumpet before their 
alms — and to flourish in the columns of an 
annual report ; — let them, in addition to that 
public manifestation of their sympathy, which 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 347 

their situation in society demands, 'utter a 
prayer in a whisper, and bestow an alms with- 
out noise; — so that God alone, and not their 
neighbour, and not even their left hand, may 
know what their right hand doeth. 

In the classic periods of antiquity, it was a 
custom among public speakers, when summing 
up their defence of an accused client, to intro- 
duce into the court, and to exhibit before the 
judges, his wife and children, his kindred and 
friends, vested in the solemnity of mourning 
apparel, clasping their hands in speechless sup- 
plication, and dissolved in all the mute elo- 
quence of tears. The calmer state of our feelings, 
and the soberer character of our manners, for- 
bid the employment of any similar expedients, 
in attempting to excite commiseration. Indeed, 
were it permitted, unhappy circumstances, on 
the present occasion, would render it altogether 
impracticable. But, my brethren, were I gift- 
ed with those rich powers of description, which 
drag things absent, as it were, before the view, 
and tinge the faint outlines of conception 
with the glowing colours of reality, I would 
present to you, — a band of supplicants amply 
sufficient to enforce, with the strongest appeal 
to your best and tenderest emotions, all the 
various arguments which have now been col- 



548 



SERMON XVII. 



lected. I would picture to you the circle of 
sick men and sick women, silently arranged 
round the fire of a ward, and contemplating, 
each in the wasted forms, and in the sallow 
countenances of his companions — the resem- 
blance of his own image- — the earnest and pre- 
sage of his own mortality. I would represent 
the incision made with the keen knife, upon 
the delicate breast of snow,— the agonies of the 
frame parting for ever with its limb, — and all its 
spouting arteries, and shrinking sinews, and qui- 
vering nerves. I would conduct you from one 
scene of suffering to another; — here direct your 
attention to feebleness leaning on his staff; — '■ 
there, to the issue of blood that has run for 
twelve years, — or to the sight that has been 
darkened in fighting, amidst the burning sands 
of Egypt, the honourablebattles of your country. 
I would bid you look on dropsy heaving his la- 
bouring chest, — on asthmastruggling for breath, 
—on abscess, and ague, and rheumatic pain, and 
pining atrophy, and decay sinking into the tomb. 
I would conduct you to the bed of the dying 
man ; — I would beseech you to mark that pale 
form, those sunken eyeballs, that look of min- 
gled agony and meekness ; — the dim eye, half 
raised upon you as you approach; — the stifled 
attempt to speak, — and the speaking look, that 
vainly asks for intermission from pain.; — the 
smije of gratitude for the few comforts enjoyed, 



FOR AN INFIRMARY. 349 

and of seeming entreaty that they may be long 
continued to others in the like situation, 
would arrest your steps until you contemplated 
the closing scene, — until you beheld the child 
of poverty resigning his spirit, encompassed by 
tenderness — but often by the tenderness of 
strangers: — and when I had displayed to you 
this complicated variety of human wretched- 
ness ; — when I had drawn you through scenes 
exhibiting so many forms and shapes of woe, — 
I would then turn round to acquaint you that 
these scenes, — piteous as they may have been to 
your eyes, and repulsive to your feelings, consti- 
tute — the luxury, — the mercy, which the sick 
man requires. It is to deliver him from the ac- 
cumulation of poverty upon disease ; — from the 
hut, scarce proof against the inclemencies of 
the weather; from anxious forebodings respect- 
ing the future prospects of his family— bodings 
continually suggested by their presence, and 
continually aggravating his complaint; — from 
disquieting noise, and meagre fare, and cheerless 
cold, and death upon the pallet of straw : — it is 
for these ends that you are now about to ad- 
minister your bounty. By administering it cheer- 
fully — for God loveth a cheerful giver; — by ad- 
ministering it plentifully — for he that soweth 
plentifully shall reap also plentifully; — you are 
about to rank yourselves high among that happy 
multitude, to whom your Saviour, in the end 



350 



SERMON XVII. 



of the world, identifying himself with the 
wretched, will thus address himself — I was an- 
hungered, and ye fed me ;— sick, and ye visited 
me; — a stranger, and ye took me in. In doing 
it to your fellow-disciples, ye did it unto their 
Master. Mine he the thanks, and mine the 
satisfaction of rewarding. Ascend, and receive 
the recompense of your labours. Enter into 
the joy of your Lord* 



351 



SERMON XVIII. 

ON MINISTERING SPIRITS, 



PSALM CI1I. VERSE 20. 

Bless- ifie Lord, ye his angels, that excel in 
strength, that do his commandments. 

The ministration of angels, in relation to hu- 
man beings, is a subject, to which, though ex- 
tremely interesting, Christian instructors have 
not in general been accustomed to direct the 
attention of their people; and in regard to 
which, the notions of the great body of be- 
lievers are much less correct and definite, than 
their knowledge of most other branches of 
their faith. Some have conceived the subject 
to be one better calculated for the fervours of 
enthusiasm, or the nights of poetry, than for 
the sober views of a rational and practical 
religion : While others have dreaded it as the 
parent of superstition, as likely to betray the 
mind into an imperfect idolatry ; to divide the 
affections and devotions of the heart betwixt 
the Creator, the only object of lawful worship, 
and some of his created beings. 



352 



SERMON XVIII. 



Yet nothing can be more certain than that 
such intelligences exist; — that they are inte- 
rested in the affairs of this lower world; — that 
they walk abroad in the earth, and are sent on 
errands of mercy; — that although they be in- 
visible, we are surrounded by a cloud of them; 
and that they often have interfered, and are 
still employed for the succour and benefit of 
good and pious men. Are they not all minister- 
ing spirits, says the Apostle to the Hebrews, 
sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs 
of salvation * ? 

We can hardly indeed open the sacred volume, 
without discovering instances or intimations of 
the interposition and agency of these ambassa- 
dors of the Almighty Sovereign. At the birth of 
the world, they seem to have betimes anticipated 
their future interest in the welfare of its inha- 
bitants, ; — it is difficult, at least, to assign any 
other meaning to the expression — -When the 
morning stars sang together, and the sons of God 
shouted for joy f. Accordingly, in the earliest 
ages, we find them continually appearing to 
the Patriarchs; to comfort in affliction, — to 
warn in the hour of danger, — to rescue from 
difficulties, — and to encourage to perseverance 
in holiness. 



* Heb. i. 14. 



f Job, xxxviii. ?> 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 353 

It is one of these celestial agents, who leads 
the afflicted Hagar to the well of the wilder- 
ness. Angels deliver Lot and his family, from 
the destruction of the sinful city. An angel 
stays the hand of Abraham, when lifted up to 
immolate his son. An angel moves in the di- 
recting pillar of fire, which precedes the camp 
of the Israelites. — To stop the way of Balaam ; 
—to carry food unto Elijah to smite the host 
of the Assyrians, when encamped against the 
people of God, we observe the same holy 
ministration employed. In the New Testament 
these messengers of Heaven are represented as 
mingling their agency in the scheme of salva- 
tion, and as extending, together with the Gos- 
pel, their concern, from the Jewish people to 
the whole race of mankind. Is the birth of 
the Baptist to be announced to . Zacharias ? — * 
Are the fears of Joseph respecting the purity 
of his betrothed wife to be dispelled ?— Are the 
shepherds to be directed where they shall find 
the Babe, that bringeth good tidings unto them 
and unto all people? — Is a favourab le answer 
to be given to the prayers of Cornelius?— Is 
Philip to be instructed how he shall enlighten 
the Ethiopian? — or Paul to be encouraged 
amidst the terrors of the storm? — The Lord sends 
forth his ministering spirits, on all these embas- 
sies of condescension or of love. No one, in a 
Word, can doubt their interposition, unless frcra 

A A 



354 



SERMON XVIII. 



that evil heart of unbelief, which proudly calls 
in question every article of faith, that lies beyond 
the limits of ordinary experience :— that heart 
possessed of old by the Sadducees, who, it is re- 
corded, while they denied the existence of angels, 
said likewise that there is no resurrection* . 

Not then, surrendering ourselves to this par- 
tial infidelity, and taking for granted the exist- 
ence and the agency of guardian spirits, — let 
lis endeavour to investigate in what respects, 
and to what extent, their interposition is exert- 
ed, and may be expected, in our behalf, 

I. The lowest occupation of tutelary beings 
upon the earth, the lowest, as it is an employ- 
ment relating to our temporal welfare, consists 
in the preservation or deliverance of the servants 
of Ged from situations of danger. To be con- 
scious, that whithersoever Ave may bend our 
steps; — in the midst of the throng, or in the 
solitary path, — these celestial protectors are at 
all times beside us, to execute the will of the 
Deity in screening us from evil, or in deliver- 
ing us when we shall have fallen into it,— to 
avert misfortunes which no human precaution 
could avoid, — to encompass as with a shield, 
and to cover as with a canopy, — must doubt- 
less be an animating and soothing reflection. 
Yet the believer may rest assured, that this is- 
* Acts, xxiii. 8. 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 355 

no fanciful supposition, since it is written, — • 
and be may humbly appropriate to himself the 
promise, — He shall give his angels charge con- 
cerning thee, in all thy ways, lest at any time thoic 
dash thy foot against a stone*. No one, how- 
ever, I trust, will infer from this assurance, 
that the care of unseen protectors will, in any 
degree, dispense with the strictest personal vigi- 
lance; since it must immediately occur to all, 
that we are commanded to walk circumspectly f ; 
and since it is subjoined more particularly to 
the passage above quoted, Thou shalt not tempt 
the Lord thy God. 

How helpless is man in the season of repose ! 
—to what a variety of accidents is he then laid 
open ! — All that sagacity, and all those precau- 
tions, which he may have diligently employed 
during his waking hours, — precautions which 
have taught many to forget the Omnipotent 
Ruler, and to arrogate the power of self-protec- 
tion and deliverance, — are now no longer of any 
avail. — Nevertheless, the faithful servant of an 
Almighty Ruler, may both lay him down, and 
sleep, in peace • for the angel of the Lord, says the 
inspired Psalmist, encampeth about them that fear 
him, and delivereth them%. The appearance of 
these messengers and delegates of Heaven, in- 

* Psalm xci. 11, 12. Zech. i. 10. compared with Rev. v« 
6. aiad Dan, x, 13—20. f Eph. v. 15, + Psalm xxxiv. f. 



856 



SERMON XVI If. 



deed, -in the silent vigils of the night, unto holy 
men under the old and new dispensations ; — to 
Jacob at Bethel, — to Joseph at Nazareth, — to 
Peter in prison; — although it cannot certainly 
encourage us, in these latter times, to expect 
the same miraculous intimations,— should, at 
least, forbid the true believer to doubt, that in- 
visible spirits, like eyes of God # , are continually 
awake around him;— that, like feathers of the 
wing of Providence, they are stretched over his 
repose; — that He whose chariots are ten thou* 
sands of angels, is accompanied by these fiery 
squadrons, and makes use of their ministration 
in keeping watch about the bed, as well as about 
the path of the faithful f . 

Nor can it be reasonably questioned, — that 
those secret impulses and silent whispers, which 
sometimes prevent men from entering on a way 
where the robber lurks, or embarking in a ves- 
sel which is about to be wrecked, — are to be 
ascribed to the gentle imperceptible agency of 
the same celestial guides. Every day, every 
hour, we walk amidst dangers and deaths, and 
know nothing of the innumerable occasions in 
which we are conveyed through them in safety, 
by the ministry of unseen, but propitious hands. 
Some among us may, at this moment, tremble 
while they call to mind escapes, which the 
coldest incredulity could not attribute to acci- 
* Zech. ir. 10, f Psalm lxviii. I?,*— exxxix.3. 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 357 



dent : and it seems fair to infer, that, for effect- 
ing these, the Almighty commissioned some 
subordinate intelligences. Was it not by his 
angel that he delivered the three holy children 
who trusted in him, from the midst of the 
burning fiery furnace*? Was it not by an 
angel that the mouths of the lions were stopped, 
when the innocent Daniel was thrown down 
into their den f ? Was it not by a similar de- 
liverer that Peter was led forth from prison, 
through the iron gate that opened of its own 
accord, — while a light from heaven illumi- 
nated the dungeon? Every servant of Heaven 
then may go forth daily into the world, con- 
ceiving that such a spirit is not far distant; 
and listening in idea to the words, with which, 
in visitations of old, the messages of these 
pure beings were frequently prefaced : — Fear 
not %. 

II. The next office, in which Scripture war- 
rants us to believe, that guardian spirits; who 
are aptly described as hands of the Divine Be- 
neficence, are engaged, is the interesting task 
of bearing consolation to the afflicted. To dif* 
fuse an holy calm throughout the troubled 
mind ; — to pour forth into the wounded bosom 
their pitcher of refreshment, drawn from the 

* Dan. iii. 29. Dan. vi. 22. 

\ Acts, xii. 15. — Gen. xlviii. 16. — Matt, xviii. 10* 
A A % 



SERMON XVIII. 



rivers of Paradise ; — to impart a consciousness 
of being accompanied in the hour of solitude ; 
— of being supported in seasons of danger; — 
of being soothed, and cheered, and strengthened, 
in apprehension, in pain, or in perplexity;— to 
suggest considerations which recommend sub- 
mission or fortitude ; — are employments not un- 
suitable to that heavenly host, concerning 
whom we know, that one of them stirred the 
pool of Bethesda, in preparation for the cure 
of the maimed ; — that some came and minis- 
tered unto the Son of Man, after his fasting and 
temptation in the wilderness; that some com- 
forted him in his agony; while others, after 
his resurrection, appeared to his desponding 
Apostles in white apparel, and uttered the 
consolatory language,— Fear not ye ; Jesus whom 
ye seek is not here, for he is risen : — he shall come 
again from heaven in like manner as he hath de- 
parted thither*. 

III. Still stronger reasons must we allow are 
there for believing, that these ethereal spirits 
are greatly occupied, as messengers of grace in 
time of temptation ; — as servants sent forth by 
the Holy Ghost into the breast, suggesting 
good, or banishing unholy thoughts ; — as turn* 
ing away the eye from the seductive spec;acle, 
or sealing the ear to accents of delusion. Of 
the evil which constitutes temptation, a large 
* Acts, i. 11* 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. $59 

portion, it is certain, is derived immediately 
from the suggestion of our ghostly enemy. If 
both the trial of Eve, and that of our Lord him- 
self, be insufficient to assure us as to the truth 
of this assertion, — Satan's being called, by way- 
of eminence, the tempter, and the description 
given of him, as a roaring lion going about in 
the earth, and seeking whom he may devour, — 
evince his continual practice. Since then the 
evil spirit is ever active in attempting to 
alienate man from the love and practice of 
holiness, does it not seem quite consistent with 
the wisdom and goodness of God, as well as 
conformable to the general economy of his pro- 
vidence, to oppose to him, in such measure as 
shall leave the human mind at liberty to turn 
the balance, the inspiration of a more benevolent 
Being, — of the Spirit of grace and truth? It- 
may, however, be asked, — Since the Holy Ghost 
himself has been revealed, and his influence 
poured out upon the children of men, where is 
the necessity for having recourse to any other, 
to any inferior operation ? To this I answer, We 
may suppose the presiding care of angels, — not 
as superseding, not as in the slightest degree di- 
viding the influence of the great Spirit of 
spirits ; but as acting in subservience to him 
for the maintenance of his dignity, as the ser- 
vants of his will, and the bearers of his bless- 
ings. Does it at all abridge the authority, does 
a a 4 



360 



SERMON XVIII. 



it not rather enhance the magnificence of an 
earthly sovereign, to be surrounded with ser- 
vants, officers, and courtiers, the dispensers of 
his favours, and the executioners of his de- 
crees? We well know, that in spiritual inti- 
mations, as well as in the daily order and eco- 
nomy of Providence, the Deity delights to 
conceal himself, and to act by intermediate 
agency. We speak of sermons, of sicknesses, 
of afflictions, of a place of graves, as means 
of grace wherefore, then, should not we, in 
like manner, speak of angels as its dispensers? 
We cannot tell, indeed, whether obedience to 
the divine command, in attending to the in- 
terests of human beings, may not be, on their 
part, an act of probation: for to a trial they 
are not impossibly still subjected : some of 
them at least, we know, were at one time ca- 
pable of falling, and did fall. If, however, 
it should be presumed, that their probation is 
now at an end, and that they- are at present as- 
sured of eternal life, still it is in the highest 
degree reasonable to believe, that the office of 
transmitting the suggestions of grace may be 
imposed on them, on their own account, as 
intelligences, whom it becomes to praise the 
Father of the Universe, and to purify and ap- 
proximate towards perfection their own natures, 
by active services as well as by hymns of 
adoration. It is natural to suppose, likewise^ 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 



361 



that pure and benevolent beings, permitted to 
witness the affairs of this lower world, should 
feel deeply interested for the favourable issue, 
of the spiritual conflict sustained by those 
who may become their future and eternal as- 
sociates : — and, if by any means possible, that 
they should exert themselves in promoting that 
issue. Add to this, that as the Omniscient, who 
knoweth our necessities before we ask, requires 
us nevertheless to state them in prayer; — as 
He who witnesseth our secret contrition, de- 
mands that it should be expressed in a confes- 
sion of the lips ; — so may it please the same 
Being, who in one sense is immediately present 
to our souls, to employ a subordinate agency 
as the vehicle of the succour he conveys to 
them from that heaven of heavens, which, 
in another sense, he is represented as making 
the peculiar habitation of his glory*. 

Satan, the enemy of all good upon earth, 
5s frequently spoken of in the sacred volume, 
in conjunction with his subject spirits we 
read of the Prince and the emissaries of dark- 
ness ; of the Devil and his angels j*. — These, 

* Psalm xxxiii. 14. 

f Matt. xxv. 41. and xii. 24. 26.— Ephes. fi. 3. and 
vi. 12. — Coloss. ii. 15. — Psalm Ixxviii. 49. compared with 
Exod. xii. 23. — 1 Sam. xvi. 14.— 2 Sam. xxiv. id, 17.— . 
2 Kings, xix. 35 —Matt. xiii. 19.— 2 Cor. ii. 11. j iv. 4. ; 
and xi. 3, 4. 14, 15.— 1 Thessal. hi. v.— 2 Thessal. ii. g, 10. 
^Acts, v. 3.— John, xi;L 27. — \ Thessal, ii, 18, 



362 



SERMON XVIII. 



there is every reason to be assured, are still 
leagued together, in the malignant work of 
envy and destruction : nor can it be supposed 
that the inferior fiends who lost their first 
estate, any more than the arch-enemy, the 
master-adversary, have unbuckled the armour 
of rebellion, or in any degree abated in their 
malice and enmity, towards God, and towards 
all his works and creatures. It may be con- 
sistent, then, with the dignity of the Spirit of 
God, though himself all-powerful and all-per- 
vading, to set his own attendant spirits in 
array, against this band of inveterate foes : 
and indeed some divines have considered that 
war, which is described in the book of Reve- 
lations as carried on in heaven, by Michael and 
his angels, against the dragon and his angels % 
— as being, in its secondary meaning, an alle- 
gorical representation of this supposed contest 
betwixt good and evil spirits, for the posses- 
sion of the human soul. 

Upon the whole, at once to secure the be- 
nefits, and to guard against the slightest per- 
version of this doctrine, let us bless Almighty 
God for having enveloped us with so many 
ministers of his will: — and receive, with satis- 
faction, that reflection of divinity, those sug- 
gestions of holiness, that air of purity which 
* Rev. xii. Zech. iii. 1, % 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. $63 

they bring unto our souls from the face of 
our Heavenly Father, which we know that 
they aizvays behold*; or, in whose presence, as 
it is elsewhere expressed, their hosts stand with 
trembling f . But let us rememher also, that as 
angels do not, in any degree, encroach on the 
office of the eternal Sanctifier, they as little 
participate his uneommunicable dignity: — >they 
are humble ministers, — beings a little higher 
than ourselves, but still created, still charged 
with folly J : — pure, exalted friends, to be ve- 
nerated and loved ; but not divinities to be 
worshipped. And when I saw the angel, I fell 
at his feet to worship him ; — and he said unto me, 
See thou do it not ; I am thy fellow-servant, 
and of thy brethren that have the testimony of 
Jesus: — worship GW§ Reserving adoration, 
then, for the Supreme Being alone, let us learn, 
from the example of these unseen sons of light, 
to execute the divine commandments with 
promptitude ; — to condescend to th^se beneath 
us in condition ; — to take delight in succouring 
the necessitous and unhappy : — thus doing the 
will of our Father on earth, as it is executed 
towards ourselves by the beatified spirits of 
heaven, 

IV. If to bear from above the emanations of 
grace, be an orifice, in which pure and kind 



* Matt, xviii. 10, 

% Psalm viii.5. Job, iv. 18. 



f 2 Esdfas, viii. 3. 
§ Rey, xix. 1Q# 



SERMON XVIII. 

intelligences may be supposed to take high 
delight, with still greater satisfaction, may it 
further be presumed, do they wing their way 
back to the courts of happiness, carrying 
tidings of the successful result of their em- 
bassy. I am Raphael, one of the seven holy 
angels, which present the prayers of the saints, 
and which go in and before the glory of the 
Holy One # . Worthy employment, to waft pure 
thoughts to the fountain of purity; — pious 
breathings into the presence of the great object 
of adoration ; and the record of holy actions 
to the ministering spirit who registers them for 
the great day of the Lord or at times, per- 
haps, while that spirit is 3 with strict fidelity, 
entering some offence of surprise or infirmity, 
to snatch with a smile the pen from his hand, 
and, commissioned by Him who alone hath 
power of forgiving sin, to erase the half- 
finished accusation. By assigning this occupa- 
tion to those delegates of Heaven, who, we are 
told, are swift as wind, and volatile as fire, 
we are able to interpret the well-known dream 
of the Patriarch Jacob f? who beheld at Bethel, 
a visionary ladder, suspended from the skies, 

* Tobit, xii. 13. compared with Rev. viii. 2, 3. 

f As Jacob proceeded (Gen. xxxii.), the angels of Go3 
again met him, and he called the place Mahanaim j which 
signifies the encampment of an army, to denote the great 
number of celestial beings whom he saw. 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 



265 



and crowded with these celestial visitants, 
some alighting on the earth, and others return- 
ing to the courts of God. We can with the 
eye of humble faith, behold the heavens opened; 
and the holy angels of God ascending and de- 
scending on the disciples of the Son of Man*. 

V. This welcome report of the pure and 
upright behaviour of faithful sojourners upon 
earth, being circulated throughout the man- 
sions of bliss, we cannot doubt that the glo- 
rified host of the happy will listen to it with 
complacency and delight ; — that they will con- 
gratulate each other on the triumph of good ; — 
on the prospect of an increase to their band ; — 
on a new advancement of the glory of the 
Most High : — and that, seizing their harps with 
holy rapture, they will echo the voice of pe- 
nitence to the eternal throne ; — " circling it and 
singing," — or convert the glad tidings of per- 
severance to a theme of praise. Worthy, will 
they say, art thou, O God, to be extolled with 
worship, and honour, and glory ; — worthy is 
He by whom the worlds were made, to receive, 
from the creatures of his hands, and the objects 
of his love, an offering of all the faculties 
with which he hath endowed them. Or ? 
again, made acquainted with the speedy ter- 
mination of labour, which awaits tj^ose dis- 

* John, i. 51, 



366 



SERMON XVIII. 



ciples whose obedience has been the theme of 
their hymn, may we not conceive them making 
ready for each his assigned mansion; and, in 
whatever sense the scriptural metaphor may be 
understood, employing their hands among the 
bowers of immortality, in weaving cromis of' 
life for such of their brethren, as shall be 
found faithful unto death? Nor let these sup-- 
gestions be deemed the fictions of fancy, pre- 
suming too far into the heaven of heavens. 
We are acquainted, in plain and sober language, 
by that sacred volume which is truth itself, 
that the salvation of man, and his glory, are 
things, into which the angels desire to look # . — 
We are told by St. Paul, that they are most 
eloquent of tongue f.- — We are told by a greater 
than St. Paul, that there is joy, in the pre- 
sence of God, among the angels, over one 
sinner that repenteth J : — and surely it seems 
to follow, as a natural consequence, that this 
joy will be increased with every fresh act of 
obedience, which evinces repentance to be sin- 
cere. 

VI. Yet further When the awful hour 
which awaits every child of Adam, the hour 
of dissolution, approaches; — when the body is 
severely racked by pain ; — when the eye is 
about to close on those objects of fond afFec- 

* 1 Pet i. 12. f 1 Cor. xiti. 1. j Luke, xv. 1Q. 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS. 367 

tion, of whom it cannot take leave with indiffer- 
ence, another interesting office of guardian spi- 
rits will consist in whispering words of peace to 
the departing followers of Jesus ; — in removing 
the film and dimness from the sight of faith;— 
in rolling back to its view the curtain of the 
skies, and permitting it to descry those seats 
of boundless felicity where it will speedily be, 
and where it will be as the angels # . Neither do 
I here speak the language of imagination when 
I describe these holy watchers, " a globe of 
lucid spirits," as hovering over and smoothing 
the couch of death ; — as attending to the last 
struggles, — and as ready to receive the soul of 
piety when it shall at length have been breathed 
away from the body ; — to catch in their arms 
the spirit emancipated from its prison-house;— 
to bear the pure and immaterial existence along 
the way of heaven, and to deposit it in the 
place which the Saviour hath prepared for it. 
By the hands of two of these ministering 
beings, was rolled away the stone from the en- 
trance of the holy tomb, that the Son of God 
might come forth from the dead. And in 
another place we read, — words still more ap- 
propriate, — and it came to pass, that the beggar 
died, and was carried by angels into Abraham's 
bosom f. 

* Mark, xii.25. f Luke, xvL 22. 



4 



36& 



SERMON XVIII. 



VII. To the bosom of Abraham, said our 
Lord to the Jewish multitude to the bosom 
of a greater than Abraham would he have said 
unto us, to whom life and immortality have been 
brought more fully to light. Let us, there- 
fore, lastty, accompany these benevolent guar- 
dians (for in closing our contemplations we 
shall thereby indulge, at least, a harmless, — I 
trust a sober, — I hope not an unprofitable view 
into futurity), while bearing their charge, and 
veiling themselves with their wings, they pe- 
netrate into the third heavens, and draw near 
to the presence of the Eternal*. As the spirit, 
— the approaching inmate of the everlasting 
mansions, — arises from sphere to sphere, passes 
between lessening s} T s terns and suns, and leaves 
at a distance that starry firmament, which it 
had formerly conceived to set limits to the 
universe, it is sustained by kindred spirits 
amidst the refulgence of encircling glories : — 
it is greeted by the voices of a countless mul- 
titude, — by radiant ranks of pure and bee. dried 
essences, — who receiving it amongst " their 
solemn troops and blessed societies and sing- 

* The Chaldee paraphrase on Cant. iv. 12. speaking of 
the Garden of Eden, says, — that no man hath power of en- 
tering in but the pure, whose souls are carried thither by the 
hands of angels. — It is unnecessary here to enter into a dis- 
quisition respecting an intermediate state : sufficient, on the 
present occasion, is the belief that, on dissolution, the souU 
©f the faithful pass into a place of happiness. 



ON MINISTERING SPIRITS, 369 

ing the song of its deliverance from sin and 
sorrow, ascribe the glory unto the Omnipotent 
who sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, 
slain from the foundation of the world : — or, 
making mention of the returning emanation of 
Heaven, as an acquisition to their number, and 
the partaker of their felicity, invite it to join 
with them in the hymn of triumph — Death, 
'where is thy sting ? Grave, where is thy victory ? 

Seeing, then, we are encompassed with these 
pure intelligences, these anxious witnesses of 
bur conduct, — (and, I trust, I have said no 
more than Scripture warrants me in assert- 
ing) — let a lively sense of their presence 
afford a fresh inducement for avoiding, by 
divine grace, all those offences, which may 
give such honourable friends and protectors 
occasion to weep over our weakness, or to 
tremble for our safety * Seeing it is our high 
privilege to come unto Mount Zion, — to the 
city of the living God, — to the Mediator of 
the New Covenant, — to God the judge of all, — 
and to an innumerable company of angels, among 
whom are, doubtless, the spirits of just men made 
perfect, let it be our chief care not to be want- 
ing unto ourselves, lest by any means we 
forfeit so high a destiny, and fall short of so 

* 1 Cor. xi. 10.— 1 Tim. v. 21.— Eccles. v. 6.— Ephes, 
iii. 10. 

B B 



370 



SERMON XVIII. 



great a salvation. Let us pass our lives as 
becomes the candidates for admission into this 
happy, holy, and glorified society. Let us. 
walk worthy of God, who hath called us to 
his kingdom and glory * : — in a word, let our 
invisible associates give a tincture to our cha- 
racter; that when the Lord Jesus Christ shall 
once more be revealed from heaven, with all 
his mighty angels, the trumpet of resurrection 
may pour forth into our graves, sounds full of 
hope, and exultation, and triumph f; and that, 
returning with the Bridegroom to the bosom of 
his Father, we may sit down, as fellow-guests 
and friends, at the marriage-feast, with legions 
of holy and beatified spirits, in one eternal 
communion of pure felicity, and celestial con- 
cord. 

* 1 Thessal. ii. 12. 

t Matt. xxv. 31.— 1 Thessal. Lr. 1& 



371 



SERMON XIX. 

THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS*. 
FOR A NEW YEAR. 



ECCLESIASTES, CHAP. I. PART OF VERSE 4. 

One generation passeth away, and another 
generation comet h. 

Every where around us, oure}^es behold a scene 
of constant fluctuation and succession. Day 
and night, — summer and winter, — follow each 
other in faithful revolutions. — Each herb, each 
tree, whose seed is in itself, perishes in its 
course, and is replaced by the springing plant. 
The animal kingdom, in like manner, having 
lived throughout a few brief months or seasons, 
finish their work, deposit their eggs, produce 
their offspring, and die to give place to the 
rising tribes. 

From a law thus general, man is not exempt 
Race succeeds race, as wave pursues wave. We 
spring up to manhood; — we mingle in the busied 
throng; — but quickly, as if the crowd were too 
much swollen, we are pushed away along with 

* I will take the liberty of recommending to readers of 
every age, a late publication, with its accompanying Dial j— * 
entitled, « The Bioscope of Life." 



P7% SERMON XIX. 

its superabundance, to the awful precipice of 
eternity. Meanwhile a new race arises about 
us on all sides; — and scarcely have we hailed 
the strangers into this existence, when we are 
compelled to withdraw, that we may leave it 
open to their exertions. — Such is the life and 
state of man.— One generation passeth away, and 
another generation cometh. Let us turn our me- 
ditations, — as at the present time is most suit- 
able, — to the various lessons afforded by this 
picture of our condition : lessons which are no 
novelties, yet which require no apology. They 
are always represented ; they are familiarly 
known: they are trite and common-place; — 
yet, — strange to tell, — they are continually 
gliding from remembrance ; and let the fasti- 
dious yawn, or the scoffer condemn, they are 
therefore to be continually reiterated. There- 
fore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the 
things which we have heard, lest at any time 
we should let them slip 

I. One generation passeth away, and another 
generation cometh. The words, in their natural 
order, direct us to a view of mankind, as distri- 
buted into two great classes ;— the old, and the 
young; — -the wise, and the inexperienced; — 
the grave, and the less considerate. To each, 
respectively, duties and sentiments belong; — 
mor, in some respects, ought either to encroach 

* Heb. ii, 1. 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 573 

on the character of the other. It is more espe- 
cially fitting for the departing race to cherish 
and protract in their minds the consider nun 
of their being quickly about to leave the present 
scene of things ; — that it may prompt them to 
adapt their conduct to their condition, by 
banishing from their behaviour all that inordi- 
nate vivacity which belongs more properly to 
earlier life, — and by studying that sedate and 
venerable deportment, which is the suitable as- 
pect of decline. Not, however, that age should 
assume severity; much less that it should sternly 
oppose the innocent hilarity of spirits naturally 
light and jocund in the opening season of ex- 
istence. Like a calm evening, in w hich the sun 
departs divested of all his fierce* rays, let the 
passing generation retain their cheerfulness, 
while they lay aside all that ardour of gaietyi 
and that eager avidity in terrestrial pursuit* 
which characterize the season of hope one of 
enterprise. Impart, my fellow-disci pies, — if, un* 
der the favour of that name, 1 may presume 
to dictate to your yeajfs^itnpart to the ad van? 
cing rai'e, the knowledge you have attained,— 
the conclusions you have drawn. Teach tnern, 
-"-for well you are acquainted with the noun,— 
that it is only the fear of God, and an earnest 
obedience yielded to his will, that is capableof 
affording genuine satisfaction, and of bringing 
bjb 3 



374 



SERMON XIX. 



a man peace at the last. Teach them — in what 
vanity and vexation of spirit all fond expecta- 
tions of deriving felicity from the poor advan- 
tages and pleasures of this inferior scene have 
terminated. Teach them these things, that 
they may happily acquire their wisdom from 
your report and avowal, and not, as you per- 
haps have yourselves been instructed, through 
the rudiments of repentance. 

As to the coming generation, let them pre- 
pare themselves for discharging, with dignity 
and usefulness, the duties to which they are 
called. Let them not try, with saucy and im- 
pious petulance, to push their predecessors off 
the stage, —by contemning their admonitions, 
or making mockery of their antiquated man- 
ners. Far from judging with presumption 
what is good for themselves on earth, let them 
suspect their own imperfect views to be errone- 
ous, and repose themselves with submission on 
the opinion of minds matured by longer and 
deeper observation of the world. Let them 
rest well assured that there is a winning 
modesty, as well as a just prudence, in honour- 
ing and obeying parents, — In submission to go- 
vernors, spiritual pastors, and masters. Be ware, 
ye whom these admonitions concern, of wasting 
your precious days of improvement, and of pre- 
paration for society, in the slumber of indo- 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 375 



lence, or the mischief of sensual pleasure. 
Habituate your minds to view life as a whole, 
of which the various successive parts are de- 
pendant on one another. Happily, the world is 
yet all before you, — you are the race that cometh ; 
and to-day you are in possession, — did you 
but recognise the advantage,— -of a thousand 
golden enviable opportunities. — A little while, 
and you will be the generation that passeth 
away. As these opportunities are now improv- 
ed or neglected, — so precisely will be the mea- 
sure of future satisfaction or sorrow. If youth 
be dedicated to solid and useful application; — 
to duty towards God aud man; — to early 
prayer to the Father of Spirits;— to the esta- 
blishment of virtuous and serious habits; a 
foundation is laid for success in pursuit,— ^for 
independence of circumstances, — for respectar 
biliry of character, — and, what is of far higher 
value than all these advantages,-^-for the favour 
of God, — for interest in the great propitiation, 
for reception of the succours of grace,— and for 
perpetual happiness in the world to come. 
Need I reverse this description, and paint be- 
fore your view the dismal result of an early 
spring-time squandered away in negligent or 
dissipated courses? — Need I acquaint you, that 
a blot in the forming character cannot, in the 
eye of an unsparing world, be wiped away by 

BB 4 



376 SERMON XIX. 

long years of atonement; — that evil habits once 
con tracted, are not to be relinquished without ef- 
forts nearly miraculous ; — that they who linger 
in their prime, must be condemned to see the 
diligent and the virtuous outstrip them in the 
course of life; — and that if God regards with 
peculiar favour the flower of the soul when it 
is presented to him in the bud ; so, if the offer- 
ing be delayed till it begin to wither, — even 
if it should, at that late hour, meet with ac- 
ceptance, it will surely be crowned with less of 
his affection. 

Could I lay bare the bleeding hearts of 
some, who may at this moment be placed on 
your right hand and on your left, doubt not, 
that you would behold them sighing a sad 
assent to the faithfulness of these representa- 
tions. 

II. But, besides these improvements of the 
words before us, to be respectively derived by 
persons of various ages,-— a different body of 
lessons may be deduced from the same source, 
adapted to the common circumstances of old 
and young, considered collectively and promis- 
cuously. 

If every thing below be changeable and fleet- 
ing ;-r— if that one generation goeth, and another 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 377 

generation cometh, be a faithful representation 
of the present condition of the human race, — 
liow can any cease to reflect, cr to act as if 
they reflected, — that, as component parts of the 
race thus circumstanced, they are even now 
partaking of this passing character ? Doubtless, 
even the youngest are comprehended in this 
description; — for though, in one sense, they are 
only entering into life, — in another, they are 
even now departing out of it, — and each ad- 
vance made from infancy to manhood, is but a 
step down the declivity, — a nearer approach to 
the grave. There is no definite point of time 
marked out, as distinguishing one race of mor- 
tals from another : and our condition resembles 
those trees in warmer climates, on whose 
different branches blossoms are continually 
bursting into light, and fruit pending in ma- 
turity ; but, whose blossoms often appear only 
to be destroyed, and whose fruit may be 
shaken down in the beginning of its formation. 
To many a one, the advancing infirmities of 
life; some diseased organ, — some fading part 
of the frame; — the silver lock appearing, — the 
sight, or the hearing, beginning to fail, — the 
limbs trembling under their accustomed bur- 
den, — speak in a language more eloquent than 
that of words, — Thy prime is past; thou art 
ready to drop to the earth; — 'the marks of in- 
cipient decay are found upon thee; the signs of 



37S 



SERMON XIX. 



a passing generation are visible upon thy fea~ 
tures. And even they whose complexions are 
yet ruddy with health, and whose bones are 
knit in robustness, need only go forth into the 
cemetery around us, — need only call to recol- 
lection the occurrences of the by-gone year, to 
learn that their tenure is hardly more secure. 
Have they not beheld individuals, — the resent 
blances of themselves,-— surprised by accident, 
or crushed by disease, while blooming in all the 
fulness of florid aspect, and exulting in the 
glory of their strength ? Thus, like the shadows 
of an optic lamp upon the wall, do manhood, 
and infancy, and old age, — -all alike shadows,— ^ 
appear in confusion, and vanish from the scene. 
Since all, therefore, are included under one and 
the same description, — all a generation passing, 
hastening away, — to all must the moral be 
alike interesting and important. What real 
preparation are they making for their exit? — ? 
Doth the hand apply with all its might and 
diligence to the accomplishment of the work 
to be performed,— not suspended in the hope 
of an earthly future,— in the prospect and con- 
fident boast of a morrow,— of a future and a 
morrow which they never may behold? 

III. From contemplating the picture of 
life delineated by the inspired preacher, let 
us next learn to impose a salutary limitation 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 379 



on earthly attachment and pursuit. — To be 
affectionately inclined towards our fellow- 
mortals, and particularly towards those with 
whom we are knit in the bonds of affinity ; — 
to cultivate the delights of amity, — and to dis- 
charge the offices of kindness, — is a proper ac- 
complishment of one of the chief purposes for 
which man was placed on earth, as well as a 
laudable participation of one of those stingless 
pleasures with which the Almighty hath gra- 
ciously lightened his load of sorrow. It is, 
nevertheless, his wisdom to be admonished by 
the fluctuation of his species, — to beware of 
wrapping up his whole happiness in objects so 
fleeting, — -or of resting his full stay on so frail 
and feeble a support. If he embark all his for- 
tunes on so slender a vessel, the wreck may 
speedily be total. Let the parent, the husband, 
the friend, be careful to moderate, by the sober 
corrective of religion, that excessive affection 
with which nature inclines to hang on the cor- 
responding relations of life. Let their chief 
dependence be still fixed on possessions, higher, 
more immovable, — less the sport of accident, 
and less the prey of time. While the various 
tender relations of this existence are prized, — 
with strong indeed, but subordinate attach- 
ment, — let God, the Creator, Redeemer, and 
Sanctifler, ever occupy the chief place in their 
souls. — So will they secure one principal trea- 



380 



SERMON XIX. 



sure, winch can neither be wasted, nor rifled, 
nor lost; — so likewise will they best prepare 
themselves for the shock of separation from 
their secondary and precarious joys; which, if 
rashly estimated as the sole or chief objects of 
reliance, might, when swept away with the 
passing generation, leave the minds of survivors 
in a state of solitude and sorrow, nearly too 
painful for nature to sustain. 

Together with earthly attachments, earthly 
pursuits should know their bounds.— I do not 
mean to insinuate, that revelation at all prohi- 
bits that stretch of mind, — that grandeur of 
conception, — that anticipation of protracted 
labour, which plan, and patiently proceed to 
execute, undertakings requiring much pains 
and time for their accomplishment. — On these, 
however, the Christian will impose re- 
straints.— First: he will regard his earthly 
schemes as subservient, more or less, to the 
great end of his being, — the glory of God; 
which, to a certain extent, if retained as 
the prime motive, is effected by utility towards 
man. Whatsoever his hand findeth to do,— he 
will remember this end,-— that he may never do 
amiss — Secondly : he will not permit his pro- 
jects of distant, but uncertain usefulness, to in- 
terfere with his ordinary duties, and with thq 
* Eccles. iii. 30. 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 381 



beneficence immediately within his reach: — 
while pulling down his barns, and building 
larger, the sound will ring in his ears, — Boast 
not thyself of the future; hut now, while thou 
hast time, do good unto ?nen*.-^-And thirdl ; it 
will be his rule to plan and execute in entire 
submission to the Giver and With drawer of life 
and talent ; ready to acquiesce without a murmur 
of regret, should he be summoned into eternity 
from any unfinished labour. Go to, nozv, ye that 
say, — To-day, or to-morrow we will go into suck 
a city, and continue there a year, and buy, and 
sell, and get gain; — whereas ye know not what 
shall be on the morrow ;— for that ye ought to 
say, — If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this 
&r thaf\. 

In a word, — He that selleih, let him be as he that 
fleeth away ; and he that buyeth, as one that will lose ; 
he that occupieth merchandise, as he that hath no 
profit by it; and 'he that buildeth, as he that shall 
not dwell therein; he that soweth, as though he 
should not reap ; so also, he that planteth the vine- 
yard, as he that shall not gather the grapes X : for 
this night may their souls be required of them ; 
and then whose shall these things be which 
they have provided §? 



* Gal. vi. 10. f James, iv. 13, 14, 15, 

% Esdras, xvi.4l, See. § Luke, xii. 20. 



382 



SERMON XIX. 



IV. A lesson of gratitude may, at the present 
season in an especial manner, be derived from 
the passage on which we have at this time been 
meditating. While a part of the generation to 
which we belong has passed away, during the 
year which has now rolled over our heads, — it 
is our good fortune to be still preserved. Life, 
with all its sorrows, abounds in mercies, — and 
to desire its continuance is an instinct of na- 
ture. While many of our age have fallen at 
our right hand,— is it not just cause of 
thankfulness, that we continue under the 
sun,* — to enjoy the smiles of the universe, — - 
the treasures of knowledge,— and the sweets of 
friendship? — Or, if to beings destined for im- 
mortality, this protraction of life be deemed a 
gift of trivial value,— when viewed as merely 
a prolongation of earthly enjoyments,— how 
vast must its importance appear to all, if re- 
garded as a continuance of the opportunities of 
salvation ! How many, cut off during the last 
twelve months, in the full career of guilt, or of 
thoughtlessness, — hurried away, with all their 
unrepented sins upon their heads, to the tribu- 
nal of infinite justice and purity, — are now, 
perhaps, wailing in the dolorous regions of 
darkness, and wringing their hands in unavail- 
ing despair, — to think that no room is, in their 
case, now left for penitence, — none for pardon ; 
—that their accepted time will never more re- 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 383 



turn, — and that the gracious days of the Son 
of Man are, with them, gone for ever ! W e too, 
my brethren, have been guilty of trespasses: — 
we too, like them, have had our unguarded mo- 
ments, and our unthinking seasons; — and yet 
we are mercifully spared. Since the sun last 
repeated his annual course, — which of us has 
not offended, oftener than he can recollect, in 
thought, and word, and deed?— Some, it maybe, 
have poised a deceitful balance; — some laid 
plans for the deliberate injury of their neigh- 
bour; — some cherished the evil conceptions of 
a depraved imagination.— To all this, the Sove- 
reign of the universe was witness. His arm is 
powerful to destroy, as well as to save; — and 
with us, as with others, a period might have 
been put to existence, before repentance had 
succeeded to transgression. Merciful provi- 
dence! — how would it have now fared with 
many ! — what unheard-of pains and tor- 
ments might they have been at this moment 
enduring, if death had received a mandate 
to execute his commission, while one was con- 
vulsed with a paroxysm of boisterous rage, — • 
while the dark falsehood trembled on another's 
lips;— while the hand of a third was turning 
the secret key, — or stretched forth to obtain from 
the receiver of stolen property, an equivalent 
for his ill-gotten spoil ! O you who are stung 
to the quick at this recital, — blame not the 
4 



384 



SERMON XIX, 



boldness of him who may have pierced your 
feelings; — but, while the blood of conscious 
guiltiness mantles in your cheeks, bless God 
that it has not ceased to flow within your 
veins. It is yours to be still numbered with 
the generation that is going, but has not hitherto 
passed away. — To you the gates of mercy, 
through the Mediator, continue open. — In your 
ears the terms of the Gospel covenant are to- 
day sounded as aforetime -and the grace of 
God flows onward into your hearts, through all 
its accustomed channels. For such long-suf- 
fering, — -such unmerited kindness, — does not a 
return of the liveliest gratitude seem owing? 
If, therefore, you will seek to render gratitude 
acceptable, see that it rest not in an inactive 
sentiment : — it is the property of lively faith to 
work by love ; and thus, since the shadows of 
your night have not descended, let gratitude 
work by duty, while it is yet called day. 

V. From the words which have at this 
time occupied our reflections, we may, in the 
last place, gather matter of consolation. Has 
any one present, during the years that are 
gone by, been bereft of objects of social affec- 
tion, or of tender endearment? — Has a mourn- 
ful vacancy been left in any domestic circle? 
— Has the friend, who in life loved better 
than a brother, closed his eyes on the light of 
the sun; become deaf to the voice of counsel, 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATION'S. 385 



and insensible to the sympathies of nature?— 
Receive, child of Adam, the blow with resigna- 
tion ; — for, behold, the event is conformable to 
the order of Providence. One generation goeth 
away, and another generation comet k. The world 
is appointed as a field of exercise and trial for 
many successive families of men. Did we pos- 
sess this our earthly abode for ever, the globe 
would speedily be overstocked with its inha- 
bitants, and no room would thus remain in it 
for the entrance of ne w candidates for immor- 
tality. To the end that multitudes of these 
might be accommodated, human life has wisely 
been made short in its duration. — A generation, 
—a race of individuals — arises; — enjoys a full 
and fair opportunity of accepting, or rejecting-, 
the terms of salvation, as proposed by the Gos- 
pel of truth : — and then, after having made a 
good, or an ill use of its labouring-time, disap- 
pears to make way for the next great family of 
probationers. Let the widowed parent ponder 
on this reflection; and, looking around his 
table on his rising olive-plants, regard them as 
a supply, — for so they are in truth, — of the loss 
which nature is too prone to bewail with an ex- 
cessive and unhallowed sorrow. When we be- 
hold mankind in constant fluctuation, and their 
generations coming or departing, — let us adore, 
instead of arraigning, the wisdom and the good- 
ness of G od, — since by this arrangement, He hath 



386 



SERMON XIX* 



prepared a theatre of action for incalculable 
numbers, who all come forward in such succes- 
sion as never to throng the scene, — never to 
press or incommode each other. Think, that 
when you lost the partner of your bosom, — the 
friend of your confidence, — the child of your 
love, — a new being, in some part of the world, 
sprang up, and came forward into the vacant 
space, to contend for the crown of glory and 
immortality. — Can you, therefore, harbour the 
selfish desire to recall the dead in the Lord, — 
when you consider that you might thereby 
hinder from seeing the light, — that you might 
detain in the dark womb of insensibility, — the 
embryo of a human being, — capable of infinite 
improvement, — of glorifying God, — of benefit- 
ing man, — -and of enjoying a pure and perpe- 
tual felicity? 

And how evident the intimation of that fu- 
ture state of being, afforded by this rapid fluc- 
tuation and succession ! — How fully are the 
shortness and uncertainty of life,—- the dissolu- 
tion of friendships, — the bleeding of hearts, — 
the calamities of families, — the bursting of the 
bands of tenderness, which are occasioned by 
the havoc and waste of death, reconciled by 
this solution to the Divine wisdom and good- 
ness! Admit only life to be a prelude to eter- 
nity, and a field of discipline ; and all the seem- 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 587 



ing chance or severity which it exhibits 9 starts 
at once into the most admirable order. Gene- 
rations are short-lived, because they are only in 
the infancy of existence; and one generation 
maketh way for another, that the many man- 
sions of heaven may be peopled. So I answer- 
ed and said, — Couldest thou not make those that 
have been made, and thai be now, and that are to 
come, at once; — that thou mightest show thy 
judgment the sooner? Then answered he me, and 
said, — The creature may not haste above the 
Maker ; neither may the world hold them at once 
that shall be created therein 

Thus, to the unspeakable consolation of them 
that mourn, it appears, that when the indivi- 
duals of the present generation pass away, in 
compliance with the wise law T s of Providence, 
they do not drop into annihilation; — they are 
not lost for ever; — they die to live; — they go 
to be seen again. If they be truly worthy of 
our estimation and regret, they are gone to in- 
herit those glorious abodes, where the good are 
blessed, and where God is in the midst of them, 
—-where they have sate down with Abraham, 
and Isaac, and Jacob, — with Patriarchs, Pro? 
phets, Apostles, Martyrs ;-r-with all the faith- 
ful of all the generations that have ever lived; 
and, through the mercy of Heaven, if we be true 

• 2 Esdras, v. 43, 44. 

cc£ 



388 



SERMON XIX. 



unto ourselves, our doom of transition will 
convey us into that blessed association. 

To what Power are we indebted for con- 
firming the imperfect suggestions afforded in 
this matter by natural religion : — for chasing 
from the mind that torturing anxiety, which 
doubts while it surmises, and trembles while it 
hopes! Thanks^ eternal thanks to our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath shed the 
full irradiation of certainty on the faint con- 
jectures of human reason : — who hath illumin- 
ated the dark and fearful entrance of the tomb, 
and shown it to be but a porch unto the courts 
of life and immortality. Thanks be to Him who 
hath gotten the victory over death, and who, in 
atoning for transgression, hath rendered eternal 
life an object of serene forethought and ardent 
desire ; — when, if this propitiation and reliance 
had been unknown, the prospect, — even if 
sanctioned by the word of truth, — would have 
been damped by despondence, and fraught with 
alarm. 

Profiting by the full intelligence thus im- 
parted to us, let us diligently seek an interest in 
the blessed Sacrifice, which strips this intelli- 
gence of all its terrors, and renders it consolatory 
and cheering; — that as soon as we shall have 
failed with the generation with which we are 



THE SUCCESSION OF GENERATIONS. 38$ 

passing away, we may be received into everlast- 
ing habitations. Let us elevate our affections 
to that high and cloudless clime, which abides 
for ever superior to all change ; — which, as the 
summit of a mountain towers above the storms, 
— is wholly inaccessible to the vicissitudes ex- 
perienced in this turbid and unstable valley of 
sorrows; that clime wherein all joys are perma- 
nent as they are pure; — where families of men 
shall no longer pass away ; — where they who 
have attained, through faith and obedience, to 
a fruition of the beatific presence of God, shall 
dwell in the light of his countenance, — shall 
bask in the beams of his love, — shall admire 
and extol the wonders of his might, from 
generation to generation, and world without 
end. 



cc 3 



390 



SERMON XX. 

THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 
A FAREWELL SERMON* 



GALATIANS, GHAP. IV. VERSE 18. 

Hut it is good to be zealously affected, always, in 
a good thing ; and not only when I am present 
with you. 

If the father of a family, who had studied 
to train up his offspring in the faith and fear 
of God, were laid upon his death-bed, we 
might reasonably conceive it to be his wish, on 
that awful occasion, to sum up, under a few ge- 
neral heads, the various lessons and advices, 
which from time to time he had communi- 
cated, and to leave them, in one solemn con- 
cluding charge, to those, for whose happiness 
he feels am interest. 

Nearly in the same manner, is it natural for 
a minister of the Gospel, who has for a consi- 
derable length of time instructed a congrega- 
tion, to draw up, at the moment of his final se- 
paration from them, a brief abstract of the se- 
veral instructions on which he had, in time 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 391 

past, expatiated ; and to stamp it, as a last im- 
pression, upon their minds. 

The tie, my friends, which has for some years 
subsisted between us, is at length ahout to be 
dissolved. Although I have been with you, it is 
true, In much weakness*, — I trust I may, with- 
out presumption, call you all to witness this day, 
that, — whatever may have been my deficiencies 
in many respects, — I scrupled not, during my 
ministry, to declare to you, at different oppor- 
tunities, the whole counsel of God f; and ac- 
cordingly, I have now scarcely any other desire, 
than to recapitulate in your presence, the various 
leading branches of that counsel, — that you 
may perceive at one view r , — and easily treasure 
in your minds, the compass and end of all reli- 
gious instruction ; — the great scheme of Chris- 
tian salvation. 

It will, indeed, prove no difficult undertaking, 
to comprise and illustrate, within narrow limits, 
the most important truths of our religion; — so 
well adapted are they, by their shortness, for the 
most occupied,— and, by their admirable simpli- 
city, for the least intelligent minds. From ex- 
hibiting them in a concentrated and collected 
form, I propose and anticipate one material ad- 
vantage I mean, your being convinced, that, 

* i Cor. ii. 3. f Acts * »• 2 7> 

cc 4 



39% SERMON XX. 

instead of forming a miscellany of detached 
articles of belief, they compose, taken together, 
a consistent and beautiful system. While you 
thus learn to acknowledge these truths, as a 
series of progressive and connected proposi- 
tions, your attention and interest, it may rea- 
sonably be hoped, will be more earnestly 
directed separately towards each of them. — 
You will rely more confidently on its divine 
sanction, — you will resolve to adhere to it with 
greater steadfastness ; when you shall have dis- 
covered it to be a link which cannot be broken 
off, or injured, without essential detriment to 
the entire chain. 

I. The great original principle,— as I have 
frequently intimated,— on which all the other 
doctrines of our venerable religion depend, is 
the fall of our first parents, and the consequent 
corruption of our nature. As soon as Adam, 
pur common progenitor, fell, by eating of the 
forbidden fruit, his nature received a taint of 
evil, which has been communicated to the 
whole of his posterity. In proof of this 
principle, we learn from the New Testa- 
ment, that— by one man siri entered into the 
world ; or, as it is differently expressed, 
*—many were made sinners*. And that this 
word many, is synonymous with the whole hu- 
man race, — old and young, — and whether deeply 
* Rom. y. 1% and 19, 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



393 



stained with crimes, — or comparatively exempt 
from actual transgressions, is manifest from the 
declaration which assures us that the Scripture^ 
hath concluded all under sin* ; and that there is 
?wne righteous; no, not one. 

The testimony of Scripture on this head is 
confirmed by every one's acquaintance with the 
secrets of his own heart, and knowledge of hu- 
man nature. Every individual, even the purest, 
and the most upright, — finds a law of the 
members warring against the law of the mind; 

a law often triumphing over clear convic- 
tions, and earnest resolutions; — a law of which* 
as his intercourse with mankind increases, he 
observes more and more of the universal operas 
tion. By reason then of this inherent depravity, 
we come into the world exposed to the Divine 
displeasure; — or, in different terms, and in the 
language of the sacred writings, — zve are, by 
nature^ the children of wrath 

It is next to be observed, that this root of 
corruption has, more or less, in the life of every 
individual who has passed the season of infancy, 
sprung up into a variety of wilful transgres- 
sions, in thought, word, and deed. The prin- 
ciple of evil, — the latent propensity itself, — is 
known among divines by the name of original 
f Qal. iii, 22. f Eph. ii, 3, 



394 



SERMON XX. 



sin; — while the deliberate offences into which 
it has led us, are, for the sake of distinction, 
termed actual sins. Now, if even our original 
taint of evil render us objects of displeasure to 
a God of immaculate purity, our actual trans- 
gressions must have, in a still greater degree, 
pi'owked his just wrath and indignation against 
us. 

II. Thus circumstanced, — guilty in every 
way before Heaven, and menaced with deserved 
punishment, — whither shall the human race 
flee for relief? — On what stay shall they rest 
their hopes of salvation? No services, — no 
offerings which they can themselves present, 
are of any avail in averting their impending 
doom. — Shall they bring to the Almighty gifts 
of their possessions? All these possessions, — 
even the cattle on a thousand hills, — are theirs 
only in trust; — are already his own. — Shall they 
go before his presence with the purer tribute 
of prayer, issuing from a heart, penitent for 
the past, and resolute as to the future?— But 
who has acquainted them that prayer and con- 
trition will, or themselves, blot out guilt al- 
ready contracted, or disarm the anger, and ward 
off the punishment, which that guilt has justly 
incurred? Or, admitting for a moment, that 
past transgressions will be cancelled by un- 
erring obedience in time to come, — an efficacy^ 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES, 395 



however, which there is no shadow of sanction 
for really ascribing to it on its own account, — ■ 
can they further flatter themselves, that such 
unerring :edience is in their power? To these 
questions, I presume, there needs no reply. 
Consequently, if the race of Adam, thus sin- 
ful, and thus frail, look at all for acceptance 
in the sight of Heaven, they must repose their 
hopes of it on some propitiation, foreign to 
their own exertions. And here you will per- 
ceive the intimate connexion betwixt the first 
elementary principle of our religion, — the 
degeneracy of nature, arising from the fall, 
coupled with its actual evil consequences, and 
the next great article of Christian belief ; — the 
redemption of a ruined world. When bruised 
by our spiritual adversary, we look, and there 
is none to help: — behold a heavenly hand 
which getteth us the victory. The propitiation 
of which we are in quest, our Bible acquaints 
us, is the sacrifice offered in the person of our 
Lord and Saviour ; the great atonement for the 
sins of the whole world, both original and 
actual # . In order to admit the doctrine of 
universal redemption, we must naturally pre- 
suppose an universal fall: — a fall, which 
though greatly aggravated in the children of 
Adam by their own actual transgressions, is 
nevertheless altogether independent of those 
* 1 John, ii. 2. 



396 



SERMON XX. 



transgressions ;~-for the infant who sees the 
light for a few hours, and expires, has certainly 
committed no actual transgression ; — yet, by 
the very term, it is included in the universal 
fall, and if eternally happy, is happy, not by 
any personal guiltlessness, — but by a participa- 
tion of the benefits of redemption. How other- 
wise could that redemption be pronounced uni- 
versal ? — How could Christ be said to have died 
for all mankind ? Thus closely and indissolubly 
connected are the two doctrines of the depra- 
vity and ruin of mankind, as the sinful de- 
scendants of a sinful ancestor, and of their re- 
covery by the merits of Christ, the second 
Adam ; — a ruin and a recovery correlative and 
co-extensive. Therefore, as by the offence of 
one, judgment came upon all men unto condemn- 
ation; — on the whole human race; — even so, 
hy the righteousness of one, the free gift came 
unto all men, to justification of life # . 

III. Although, however, agreeably to these 
words of the holy Apostle, redemption be a 
free gift, its efficacy in saving each individual 
depends, by Divine appointment, on his per- 
formance of a certain condition. This condi- 
tion is, in one word, that of faith; — faith, or 
belief in the revealed will of God ; but more 
especially, in the merits of the crucified Saviour* 
9 Rom. t. 13, 



The chain of the doctrines. 397 



Without faith, St. Paul acquaints us, it is im- 
possible to please God* : while in another Epistle 
he points out the chief object on which the 
faith of saved transgressors must repose itself: 
— Therefore, being justified by faith, we have 
peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ \* 

The Scriptures, however,— and it is of the 
Utmost importance that we should here parti- 
cularly attend to their information, — present to 
our notice two descriptions of faith,— *on one 
of which no solid reliance can be placed. This 
is a dead, or a barren faith; — a faith which 
bringeth not forth works of righteousness ; — a 
simple assent to the truths of religion, by which 
the devils also believe and tremble %. The right, 
or that which is called a saving faith, is a lively 
faith, — a. faith which worketh by love, or, of 
which the sincerity is manifested by that holi- 
ness of living which it suggests, in the same 
manner as a healthy tree is known and valued 
by the full production of its proper fruits I 
will here take the liberty of hinting, that, as 
illustrative of these remarks, the whole of the 
Epistle General of St. James is highly worthy 
of your attentive perusal. 

IV. But, fourthly; In what manner must our 
works of holiness, of which the necessity is 

* Heb.xi. 6. f Rom. v. 1. 

.% James, ii. 19. § Gal. v. 6. 



353 SERMON XX. 

thus obvious, as tests of faith, be performed? 
Man is so very far gone from original righteous- 
ness (Art. IX.), that he cannot of his own natural 
strength perform works acceptable to God. (Art 
X.) : W 2 are not sufficient of ourselves to think any 
thing as of ourselves*: for in us dwelleth no 
good thing -\. Our sufficiency therefore is, and 
can be, only of Almighty God: and thus are 
we naturally introduced to the contemplation 
of a new branch of revealed religion, — the 
great and essential doctrine of Divine Grace, 
The concluding words of the Tenth Article of 
our Church,' — namely, — The grace of God, by 
Christ, must prevent, or go before us, that we. 
may have a good will to works of obedience, and 
work with us, when we have that good will, ap- 
pear to be a paraphrase on the address of St. 
Paul to the Philippians; For it is God which 
worketh in you, both to will and to do, of his good 
pleasure J. Yet let us not hence take occasion 
to imagine that we ourselves are permitted to 
rest passive and supine, entirely dispensed from 
making any exertion in duty : much less, that 
we derive a privilege from the help that is pro* 
mised and offered, to continue in sin, that 
grace may abound. God forbid that any of us 
should for a moment lend an ear to suggestions 
so fallacious and fatal ! Man is placed on earth 
in a state of trial; and although undoubtedly 
* 3 Cor. iii. 5. f Rom. vii. 18. f Phil, ii, 13, 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



399 



lie could by no means obtain salvation unless 
the grace of God's Holy Spirit were held out 
to him ; — he possesses, nevertheless, a power of 
ruining himself, by refusing to lay hold of this 
extended aid. — He can quench the Spirit, — he 
can grieve the Spirit, — he can refuse to open the 
door of his heart, when the Spirit stands with* 
out and demands admission # . Our obedience 
then consists in seeking the grace of God ; and 
in accepting it, by availing ourselves of its in- 
fluences when they are tendered. And they are 
tendered, — as I have ever taught, and as I ever 
must believe,— to all men, and, more or less, at 
all times. / will pour out my Spirit upon all 
flesh f . To-day, if ye will hear his voice (to-day 
then, and every day, his voice may be heard)* 
harden not your hearts %. Seeing then, that, as 
far as our voluntary agency extends, we may 
thus accept or reject the grace of God ; — and 
seeing that in our power of choice consists our 
probationary trial ; — in our determination, — our 
holiness or our guilt; — let us come boldly and 
continually to tlie throne of God, that we may ob- 
tain grace to help in time of need§; and at the 
same time, let us labour, in obedience to that 
holy impulse and guidance, to work out our own 
salvation with fear and trembling ||. It is mani- 

* 1 Tbes. v. 19.— Epk iv. 30.— Rev. iii. 20, 
I Joel, ii. 28. % Psalm xcv. 8, 

\ Heb. iv. l6. \\ Phil ii. 12. 



400 



SERMON XX. 



fest indeed, that this belief in a co-operation of 
the agency of God with our own free accept- 
ance of it, in the production of good and ac- 
ceptable services, is the only belief capable of 
being reconciled to our rational views respect- 
ing the Divine attributes, and more particularly 
to the address of the Apostle to the Romans; — 
The Spirit also bearing witness with your spirits, 
that ye are the children of God*. 

Observe now, I entreat you, how intimately 
this doctrine of divine grace is connected with 
the first great principle of the Christian faith, 
- — the original corruption of our nature. Were 
we naturally prone to good, we should stand in 
no need of assistance. The doctrine of grace 
supposes, on the contrary, that we are all, by na- 
ture, predisposed, in many respects, to evil;— 
that good, with us, is labouring against a 
stream ; — and that consequently our own un- 
assisted efforts are far too feeble, in inclination, 
as well as in power, to struggle successfully 
with the current. And this is, in truth, taken 
continually for granted in every supplication 
for spiritual blessings which we present : — for 
why should we entreat God not to lead us into 
temptation, but to deliver us from evil, unless on 
the supposition, that, if abandoned to ourselves, 
we should most inevitably fall into temptation, 
* Rom. viii. 1& 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



401 



and being tempted, that, in like manner, we 
should be incompetent to our own deliverance? 
The two Sacraments are reconciled to our rea- 
son, solely as arising out of the connexion be- 
twixt the same doctrines. Baptism places us 
in a way of obtaining, and the Supper of the 
Lord continually supplies, that heavenly help, 
which is necessary to enable us to oppose the 
original corruption of our nature *. 

V. The last great and distinguishing doc- 
trine of Christianity, is that of a Trinity in 
Unity; — and this too can, without difficulty, 
be at once expounded by a reference to the 
sacred volume, and shown to be very closely 
connected with all the other leading articles of 
belief. That the Father and the Son are one, is 
explicitly declared by the Apostle John, where 
he introduces our Lord saying to his followers, 
— He that seeth me, seeth Him that sent me\. — 
Again, our Saviour is described, in direct 
terms, as Christ, who is overall, God, blessed 
for ever J. . 

* The effect of Baptism is to remove the liability to punish- 
ment for original sin, and to supply the grace which may pre- 
vent, in a great measure, its springing up in actual offences j 
— but not entirely to take away the taint, the bias to evil, 
which is justly said iu the ninth Article to remain, even ia 
those who are regenerated. — Rom. vii. 18. 

f John, xii. 45. | Rom. ix. £. . 



P D 



405 



SERMON XX. 



With respect to the unity of the Father and 
the Holy Spirit, let it suffice to establish that 
article of belief, by the selection of a single 
passage from amongst many that might be 
cited, — Know ye not that ye are the temple of 
God, and that the Spirit of Goddwelleth in you*? 

Now, if we are convinced of the strict ne- 
cessity of an atonement, different from our 
own offerings or penitent services, we must 
allow, that the more valuable that atonement 
is, the more likely will it prove to appease the 
Almighty Sovereign; — the greater assurance 
shall we undoubtedly feel, that it has really 
been sufficient to appease him, and to pui> 
chase our full pardon. What atonement then 
can be more valuable,— what more efficacious, 
than that whjch the sacred oracles have pre- 
sented to our faith? When we are taught that 
a great Being, at once Goc} and man, has dir 
vested himself of his glory, and suffered on 
our account, — when this august Being himself 
in his divine character, hath assured us of the 
efficacy of his passion, we feel a stronger con- 

* 1 Cor. i'n. 16. 
. ^the spape allowed being too limited to admit of an ampler 
elucidation of the mystery of the Holy Trinity in general, I 
must rest satisfied with referring to the work of Mr. Jones 
on the subject, where the proofs are fully unfol4ed. — The 
title of that work is^ " Jones'? Scriptural Doctrine of the 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



403 



fidence in the vicarial sacrifice, than if a subor- 
dinate agent, — if, for example, one of the 
angels, chargeable as they themselves all are 
with folly, were described and held forth to 
belief as our propitiation. When, placing 
on one hand, the heinousness of our trans- 
gressions, and on the other the strict justice 
and immaculate purity of the Governor, whose 
laws we have so presumptuously and repeatedly 
violated, we perceive and acknowledge, as we 
cannot but do, the extreme difficulty of re- 
conciling him to his sinful creatures; — more 
ease must evidently be derived to the mind, 
from reflecting, that the Intercessor and the 
offended Power are one and the same ; — that 
the Son is equal to the Father as touching his 
Godhead, than if we had learned to conceive 
the offended Power to be divine, and the Inter- 
cessor only an inferior and created being. 

In the same manner, since we are unable to 
repent, and to turn unto God, by our own na- 
tural inclination and strength, it is, beyond all 
question, the most valuable — the most satis- 
factory information we can receive, to be told, 
that the supplemental strength which we re- 
quire is furnished, not by any subordinate 
being, who, created like ourselves, might be 
supposed, like ourselves, to stand in need of 
dd2 



404 



SERMON XX. 



assistance, rather than to be capable of impart- 
ing it, — but by the third Person of a coequal 
Trinity, — by God the Holy Ghost 

Thus, my brethren, have I endeavoured to 
show, that the grand doctrines,— the various 
leading and essential points of Christianity, — 
have all an intimate mutual reliance and cor- 
respondence : and more particularly, that the 
corruption of human nature, by the fall of 
Adam, our great progenitor, is the first prin- 
ciple in which they all originate. In strict 
conformity with reason, indeed, there is no 
possibility of taking any one of these doc- 
trines separately from the rest. They stand or 
fall together. Reject the first principle, and 
the others appear superfluous. Admit the first, 
or any one of these doctrines, and all the rest 
will easily follow as deductions from it. 

It is no wonder then, that the disciples of 
Socinus, in denying the first of these articles 
of belief, deny the whole. They act, in this 
respect, with the strictest consistency. If 
man be not fallen, if he be not prone to evil, 
it is not impossible that some few of the race at 
least, might yield a full obedience to the laws 
of God : and under this supposition, it would 
likewise follow, that the death of infancy 
would be the death of innocence. On such 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 405 

an hypothesis, then, it is abundantly plain, 
that there would be no indispensable necessity 
for Christ, as an universal Saviour. Still less 
occasion would there appear for a sanctifying 
Spirit, and less power of accounting for a 
Trinity in Unity :— and although, on sufficient 
authority, we might assent to these doctrines, 
our belief in therh would lose the sanction and 
support of apparent necessity, and satisfied 
reason. The whole which men required, under 
so contracted a view* was simply a pure and 
perfect system of morals, enforced by the as- 
surance of future rewards and punishments.— 
Such wants, the instructions, and the well- 
attested resurrection of a man, like themselves, 
having had no pre-existence, — no divine na- 
ture,— would have been quite competent to 
supply;— and accordingly we know, that in 
these instructions, and in this fact, is com- 
prised the whole of the Christian Revelation^ 
agreeably to the Socinian creed. —The ne- 
cessity, then, of being steadfast in maintain- 
ing all these truths^ without any one except 
tion, or relaxation, as forming a great and re- 
gular system, will now, I trust, be obvious to 
every mind, On many inferior topics of re- 
ligious difference, such as forms and cere- 
monies, and the observance of days, it is far 
better, I conceive, to preserve Christian cha- 
rity, than very strenuously and warmly to con- 



406 



$I#MoV XX. 



tend : since two individuals may hold op- 
posite sentiments respecting them, while both 
stand equally high in the favour of Heaven.— 
Yet, although it be proper, even on the most 
momentous occasions, to avoid, as rmich as 
lieth in us, the animosities of controversy, our 
faith, in all these leading propositions, which 
we perceive are the life and blood of our holy 
religion, ought never, on any account, to 
waver; — our zeal in recommending them, on 
proper occasions, to others, should at no time 
surfer abatement our earnestness, our perti- 
nacity, in refusing to recede from maintaining 
their strict indispensable necessity, must never, 
never for a moment be accommodated to thp 
maxims and manners of a false politeness. Let 
it be remembered, however, — at all times faith- 
fully remembered, — that a belief in these doc- 
trines, and a steadfast adherence to them, is 
chiefly enjoined, and almost solely valuable, as 
the occasion of improvement in personal holi- 
ness. When rightly understood, indeed, the 
great truths of Christianity will be perceived 
to have, all of them, this direct tendency. For 
as soon as we discover the aversion of God 
from sin to have been so exceedingly great, as 
to render it needful that all the powers of 
Heaven should exert themselves, and work 
together in appeasing his displeasure, we cannot 
but infer our strict obligation, now that we 



the Chain of the doctrines. 407 

find ourselves happily delivered, to dread, 
above all things, a repetition, an aggravation 
of the offence; — to beware of crucifying the 
Son of God afresh by our sins # ; — or of griev- 
ing that holy Spirit of God, whereby we are 
sealed unto the day of redemption f . Rescued 
by so mighty an hand from destruction, and 
permitted to taste of the powers of the world 
to come, — can we fail to discern the imminent 
danger of relapsing, and to warn our owri 
souls, even were Revelation silent on this head, 
that if any man draw back, he draws back 
into perdition J : — that if, when his house is 
swept and garnished, he go and take unto him 
seven other wicked spirits, the last state of 
that man is worse than the first § ? In a word, 
the great doctrines, when received in an honest 
heart, must be acknowledged to have been 
imparted, not to foster inactivity, but to ba^ 
nish despair, and to encourage exertion ; — not 
to state or suggest, that God has done every 
thing, and that we need do nothing for our 
salvation ;— -but to invite our souls to co-operate 
with the Almighty; — -to acquaint us, blessed 
and animating truth ! that if we do what we 
can to obey the divine laws, our feebleness 
will be assisted ; — our errors forgiven ;— and, O 
sublime mystery ! assisted and forgiven by the 

* Heb. vi. 6, f Ephes. iv. 30. 

% Heb. 30. § Matt. xu. 44, 4$. 

PP4 



4G& SERMON XX. 

highest Powers of the universe, who are capable 
of assisting and forgiving. — And what more 
powerful enforcement can be added to the exhort- 
ation, — Therefore, niy beloved brethren, be ye stead- 
fast, unmovtable, always abounding in the work of 
the Lord, — than the accompanying argument, — 
Forasmuch as ye know, that through the suffer- 
ings of the Saviour, your labour is not in vain in 
the Lord? — »What call to work out our own sal- 
vation with fear and trembling can be ima- 
gined more cheering, — what liiore effectual, 
than that which opens to us the pleasing 
prospect of success, in the assurance that God^ 
through the influences of his Spirit, is working 
in us, both to will and to do, of his good 
pleasure*? 

When I now call to mind the manner in 
which, for several years, I have endeavoured, 
in explaining this chain of doctrines, to recom- 
mend the grand result, the duties which pro* 
ceed from them, I feel deeply conscious of the 
necessity I am under, of soliciting forgiveness 
from Heaven and from you, for many omis- 
sions, and much imperfection. So far, then, 
as, in time past, I "may have neglected any 
department of the duty of public instruction; 
I can only make a reparation, at this close of 
my ministry, by praying that your own under- 
standing and good principles, aided by the 
* Phil. ii. 13, 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 409 



exertions of your other ministers, may be en- 
abled to remedy that defect. So far as I may 
be candidly admitted, on the other hand, to 
have conscientiously and comprehensively dis- 
charged this duty, I trust that the grace of 
God may give efficacy to my labours, and long 
preserve any salutary impressions which it may 
have made, through my instrumentality, upon 
your minds. And as, agreeably to the principles 
which you have now heard unfolded, it is 
needful, to the production of this happy effect, 
that you should yourselves work together with 
that holy Agent, Imustfurther express an earnest 
wish, that you will not be wanting in your por- 
tion of the labour. To aid your co-operation 
with the Spirit of grace and truth, permit me, on 
taking leave of you, to recommend to your 
most serious perusal the excellent works of 
Law on a devout life; of Mason on self-know- 
ledge ; of Murray on the influence of religion 
on the mind; of Taylor on holy living and 
dying; and, as discourses for family or private 
reading, the three volumes of selected sermons 
for the Sundays and festivals of the church; the 
family sermons printed in the Christian Ob* 
server; together with the anonymous volume 
of " Discourses on the Doctrines and Duties 
of Christianity." For the furtherance of the 
same object, it is necessary to inculcate a mo- 
derate and cautious use of common amuse- 

2 



410 



SERMON XX. 



ments; and a strict attention to the sacred and 
profitable exercises of public, family, and pri- 
vate devotion. I would likewise entreat you 
to acquaint yourselves with the pleasure, — you 
will find it one of the highest which religion 
or the world affords, of attending to the 
spiritual necessities of the ignorant; and in 
an especial manner, of the young, among the^ 
inferior classes. To devise and promote mea- 
sures for accommodating the poor, in churches 
and chapels of the Establishment ; and to distri- 
bute amongst them, in their houses, Bibles, 
Prayer-books, Companions to the Altar, and 
different well-chosen religious tracts, are em- 
ployments, not only useful and kind in them*- 
selves, but well calculated to keep alive 
your own religious feelings, and that, be as- 
sured, in a most pleasing manner, betwixt one 
Sabbath, — one occasion of public devotion, and 
another. An attention, however, to charity- 
schools, and more particularly to schools of 
industry and Sunday-schools, is what I am, 
here anxious chiefly to recommend as a ne- 
cessary duty ; as well as an occupation at once 
useful and benevolent, — self-edifying and de- 
lightful. A selection from the excellent Re- 
ports of the Society for bettering the Con- 
dition of the Poor, together with two small 
volumes, entitled, " The Economy of Charity," 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 411 



and written by a highly respectable lady *, will 
greatly assist your zealous efforts in prose- 
cuting this agreeable and philanthropic under- 
taking. 

My remaining admonition on this head, is 
one of far greater importance than many may, 
at first view, be apt to imagine. It is a fault, 
unfortunately too common, amongst those, who, 
by reason principally of their local situation, 
bring to the house of instruction refined tastes, 
and minds tinctured with a propensity to 
luxury, to be more ready, in those compli- 
mentary thanks, which they occasionally pay 
to their spiritual teachers, to signify their ap- 
probation of that which gratifies the fancy, 
than of that which amends the heart;— of 
striking novelties, brilliant figures, pathetic 
movements, than of the plain word of truth, 
preached in simplicity and sincerity. Now, as 
ministers are but men, it is necessary to re- 
collect, that every such expression of mis- 
placed approbation must have a strong ten- 
dency to debauch their minds; and to occasion 
their repetition of a culpable neglect pf serious 
exhortation, and of evangelical truth, for the 

* Mrs. Trimmer, — who has lately gone to receive the re- 
ward of her labours \ and the soundness of whose judgment 
was not inferior to the fervency of her piety, and the ear* 
iicstness of her zeal. 



412 



SERMON XX. 



sake of that frivolous mode of instruction, 
which they find to be a surer way to the 
affections of their respective hearers. I would 
therefore most earnestly beseech you to be- t 
ware, at all times, and in all places, of com- 
plimenting discourses of this latter description, 
however great may be their excellencies, and 
however highly they may have gratified you, 
when considered as works of taste. The distin- 
guishing merit of a sermon is, undoubtedly, 
to illustrate the awful and distinguishing truths 
of Revelation, and to produce a serious and 
a permanent impression : — let this considera- 
tion be ever present to your minds - and so far 
as the individuals who sit to be judged, cannot 
wholly avoid pronouncing judgment, establish 
it as the fixed criterion and standard of your 
decision.- — If you were studiously to confine* 
the tribute of your commendation to discourses 
possessing these two merits ; — nay, if you were 
invariably to make a rule of offering it, even 
when such discourses are destitute of every 
beauty: of composition, and every grace of elo- 
cution, you would at once teach your pastors 
a salutary lesson, and provide for, at least, the 
doctrinal and preceptive excellence of the in- 
structions, which you should, in future, receive. 

We, who are stewards of the mysteries of 
God, find much occasion to tremble under our 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



413 



charge ; — to smite upon our bosoms, and 
anxiously to exclaim, Who is sufficient for 
these things ? and the very best among us have 
to lament the very defective and unworthy 
manner in which we have performed our mo- 
mentous duties. Conscious of infirmities, and 
sinking under apprehensions, it is not unnatural 
then that we should look abroad for every 
prop, .to our hopes of being included amongst 
the- ransomed of Christ; — that we should cling 
to the promise held forth in Scripture unto 
those-twho shall have turned others to righteous- 
ness, as offering some small abatement of our 
personal u worthiness- to partake of the mighty 
propitiation and deliverance, which our own 
hand could never have accomplished. If, then, 
any. reliance may, without presumption, be 
placed by a Christian pastor on such a soothing 
prospect, you need not wonder at the earnest- 
ness, alas ! — it is a selfish zeal, with which I 
now conjure you to stand fast in the Lord, that 
ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, 
without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and per- 
verse generation # . In thus addressing you, I but 
speak for myself: I speak, that I may rejoice in 
the day of Christ,— that I have not run in 
vain, neither laboured in vain ',—for what is our 
Jiope, our joy, our crown of rejoicing ? are not even 

■ * Phil. ii. 15. 



414 



SERM0K XX. 



ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ ? — 
ye are our glory and joy *. 

And now, brethren, I commend you to God, 
and to the word of his grace, which is able to 
build you up, and to give you an inheritance 
among all them that are sanctified f. I trust you 
will believe that I speak with that entire sin- 
cerity which I have at all times carried into 
the place of instruction, when I do assure you 
it is not without extreme pain and reluctance 
that I now resign my charge ; — and that while I 
submissively yield to, I sincerely lament, the 
unavoidable circumstances of bodily and mental 
indisposition, which remove me from the situa- 
tion of guide to a people, whose general piety, 
and plain, uncorrupted manners, present a field 
of contemplation on which the eye loves to re- 
lieve itself, after having witnessed those vicious 
morals, and those more artificial modes of life, 
which prevail in their immediate neighbour- 
hood. 

For the attention and respect, far greater 
than I have merited, which, since my entrance 
on the cure down to the present moment, I 
have experienced from you, my friends, as a 
congregation, accept my sincerest thanks. — 
There are some to whom I owe particular 
* l TJjess, ii. i$< f Acts, 32, 



THE CHAIN OF THE DOCTRINES. 



415 



obligations, and whose friendship will be re- 
membered by me, wherever I shall be cast. — 
There are some for whom an esteem is mingled 
with each drop of my blood, and must con- 
tinue until that shall cease to circulate. Nor 
can I avoid the selfishness of expressing my 
hope, that I shall not be altogether blotted 
from their remembrance ;-— at least, that if ever 
any of those public instructions, from which 
they may have derived benefit, shall prompt 
them to a kind office, or to an effort of self- 
denial, they will put up a passing prayer for 
the salvation of one whose hearts desire for 
them is, as it ever was and will be, that they 
shall be saved who will not forget to solicit 
Heaven for them in return ; — and who anxiously 
looks for a renewal of their amity in a more 
exalted and permanent state, if it should chance 
to be denied in the present doubtful scene of 
severed friendships and precarious enjoyments. 

The assurance delivered by our Saviour t6 
his Apostles, — Where I am, there ye shall be 
also ; — his address to the penitent malefactor 
upon the cross, — Verily, this night thou shalt 
he with me in Paradise, — and several other 
passages in the sacred writings, encourage us 
to indulge the blessed and pleasing hope, that 
jn a future state of existence we shall be what 
* pom. x. Ho 



416 



SERMON XX. 



we have been, and know one another : — and 
that from the hymns and hosannahs which 
swell along the arch of heaven, — from the 
eternal adoration and gratitude, which, prostrate 
before the throne of God, it will be our duty, 
and unspeakable delight, to offer, some inter- 
vals will be graciously allowed to our affections, 
for reuniting- the ties, which we had drawn 
together in this lower world. When, therefore, 
amidst the glories and pleasures of eternity, the 
parent shall clasp his long-lost child ; — when 
brethren shall once more dwell together in 
unity ; — when the new-embodied soul of every 
friend will rush forth to seek its partner spirit, 
some inferior satisfaction, it may humbly be 
expected, will be derived from that re-esta- 
blished intercourse of respect and attachment, 
which had subsisted betwixt faithful pastors 
and their flocks. 

Finally ; — Brethren, farewell ; — for I can best 
bear to speak that word, when pondering on 
such reflections. There is much more that I 
would say to you ; but just now I am unable : 
nor is it fitting that I should trespass longer 
upon your time.— In one word, then, if there 
be any amongst you, my kind and good 
hearers, who delight to entertain these con- 
solatory and refreshing anticipations, see that, 
by a life of Christian faith and holiness, you 



THE CHAIN" OF THE DOCTRINES. 417 



assure yourselves of your great recompense of 
reward. May the grace of God be ever with 
you. May his favour and blessing attend you 
and yours. In my last moment, and with my 
latest words in this place, let me express my 
sincere and ardent wishes for the success of 
your earthly and spiritual concerns. To hear of 
your happiness, will ever increase mine. To hear 
of your perseverance in the paths of life, will 
give me comfort in sickness, in distress, in 
old age ; — will gladden my departing hour, and 
enable me (if it be allowable to speak thus of 
any thing earthly) to hope for forgiveness and 
favour at the tribunal of my Redeemer and 
Judge. — Farewell. Be perfect: — be of good 
comfort : — be of one mind : — live in peace : — 
and may the God of love and peace be with 
you. Amen. 



THE ENI>. 



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